The Apprentices of Baker Street
by Magical Mistress Sarai
Summary: -Naruto AU- You think you know the story of Watson and Holmes? You don't know the first thing. A reimagining of the classic characters, with a flair of Naruto, a touch of magic, and all the action you've come to love... and little love you may not expect.
1. Prologue

**The Apprentices of Baker Street**  
**Prologue**

* * *

_**Year of Enlightenment: 1866  
Leeds Row, London**_

_"__I don't think you quite grasp the situation, Minato…"_

_The voice came somewhere from within the black flames, somehow drowning out the burning and the screaming… the roar of the chaos. Nothing else was audible except for patronizing, monotonous voice that dripped with false sympathy._

"_Your wife is dead… you are dead, or rather dying, and I'm taking the ring. None of this would have happened if you'd just given it to me __**willingly**__."_

_Minato couldn't think clearly. He tried to blink away the fog which was clouding his vision, but it only seemed to get thicker, darkening with each rise and fall of his eyelids. Even that small movement was taxing, they felt so heavy... and his limbs wouldn't move. Slowly the room went out of focus, like he was drifting into the depths of some dark, unseen pool._

"_What… could you… possibly want with… the ruby?" he choked out._

_There was an odd sound, something akin to laughter, but it echoed cold and hollow in the dark. "Everything," the voice responded, "It is the key to our freedom, our liberation from years of servitude… it is the key to __**power**__."_

"_We are servants… of knowledge…" Minato whispered, "We… do not seek… power…"_

"_No…" the voice snapped coldly, "You are nothing. Just a corpse. I am the one who decides what **we **are."_

_Minato couldn't disagree, and in a rush of cold, numbing heat… his last thoughts were wiped from existence._

_

* * *

_

_**~A/N~**_

_**And this starts my latest project. I'm currently editing chapter 1, and I'll have it up somtime later today (After I've slept). Hopefully this has your interest. ;) **_

_**Basically this is going to be an AU fic, that using a great deal of 1800s British history, myth, and fiction... and throws it together with some of my own twists and plot devices, add in your favorite Naruto characters, and you get a story which I really love. The plus side to this story? I have it fully outlined. It's got an ending, unlike Naruto: Kurashio (my other fic) which doesn't look like it will ever end. So, if AU stories are your thing... stick with me cause I have a hella great plot lined out for this, plus the lore is all completely me... so you've never seen anything like this, I promise. More details about my projects can be found on my profile.**_

_**I love reviews, and I response to each review personally. Much love,**_  
_**~Sarai**_


	2. Thieves in the Night

_**The Apprentices of Baker Street**_  
_**Chapter 1**_

* * *

There are legends told throughout history…

Some are based in myth. They have a specific morality to them, a purpose of teaching some philosophical meaning which is universal in it's application. Others are rooted in truth, often becoming skewed as power and history change hands. As time passes on, it becomes more and more difficult to determine truth from myth, especially when there are few who even remember the facts. Thankfully, some stories are documented through time, backed up by empirical evidence or recorded events, but sadly these stories are not the exciting tales.

No, the best tales often go unrecorded, passed along by memory, held in secret, and dying upon closed lips of their witnesses… doomed to survive only in the realm of mystery and murmur.

I'm sure that by now, many of you have heard about the extraordinary exploits of one Sherlock Holmes and his partner Doctor Watson…

Unfortunately for all of you, what you have heard from the pen of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is nothing short of complete rubbish. The only mystery he was ever faced with was how to locate his next meal, and the only action he ever saw was when two men came stumbling out of a smoking building, past his luncheon table… all he caught were their names, "_Holmes_" and "_Watson_", as they were bickering. Yes, I'm afraid you have all been victims of a bored man's wild imagination… which, grievously, isn't as imaginative as the actual events.

For example: Holmes was not a detective, and Watson was not a doctor... quite the contrary; you see… Holmes was strangely, a bit of a pervert, and Watson was… oddly enough… rather the ruffian. They made for quite an unnatural pair, but, between the two of them, they managed to accomplish some exemplary feats, which allowed the world to function as if nothing were wrong at all.

And believe you me, something is always going wrong with the world. You wouldn't believe what goes on outside your own window.

What's that you ask? What were Holmes and Watson, if not for what Mr. Arthur Conan Doyle said they were (for you see, he wouldn't have been knighted if not for Mr. Holmes… and he was not a knight before their obscure meeting)… pray tell, what were they you wonder?

Ah, that would be bringing you in on quite a secret, and I'm afraid that would be putting you at terrible risk. You don't care, though, do you? No, of course you don't… you wouldn't be in a place like this if you actually gave a damn about anything. Had you anything to care about, _anything at all_, you would be out there in the world doing it… and not listing to an old woman such as I.

Alright then, I suppose for a few coppers I could tell... what? You don't know what coppers are? Farthings… no, I don't suppose they exist anymore. Time seems to be getting muddled the more I stay here. Alright, listen well… because I'm only going to explain this to you once:

These lips open for payment, and nothing short of a solid ten pounds is going to get you another word…

Ah, you're a smart one. This'll do me nicely, that it will… now, I'm still warning you: what I'm about to tell has gotten lesser men killed.

Uh… let me see…

It was in the middle of the nineteenth century, height of the Victorian Era it was. I remember London, booming from the Industrial Revolution they call it now… booming was a good word for it, smoke and soot everywhere, the night sky lit up with coal fires burning from smoke stacks… the thick, hot smell of industry. Ah… I couldn't have imagined England at a different time. It was an age of gentlemen and scholars, beggars and nobles, Queen and Empire… there never was a brighter age in the history of man...

...And there never will be again.

* * *

**Thursday, May 12th****, Midday  
****Glasson Row, London, England  
****Year of Enlightenment: 1875**

The sound of the taxi rattling by was enough to cover the silent slice of a knife through a coin-purse. The owner of the coins didn't hear a thing, and hadn't even noticed the missing coins. Not before the boy managed to sneak away with them, pulling down his tattered bowler and ducking into a side alley. He'd been doing this for years, taking what he could to survive and sometimes taking a little bit more if it meant he didn't have to go hungry... or cold.

He was a cut-purse, and a damn good one. All you had to do was ask him and he would tell you just that, proclaiming it loudly in the right circles, but denying it quite cleverly if the local Bobby were to come asking around. Keeping inconspicuous, that was the key to surviving the streets… specially if you were an orphan.

Picking good marks, the unknowing sods, that was another necessity. See, if ya picked a bad mark… then you got caught. It was simple as that.

He never picked a bad mark, not ever; that was why he'd survived on these streets for so long. Yeah, he was only nine years old, but he'd been surviving since he was four. That was longer than most. He had no memory of parents, only flashes, quick images of being happy, and then everything being dark. The past wasn't kind to him, but he didn't need the past. All he needed was himself, his wit, his lightning fast hands… and he'd get along just fine. Just ask him.

Once he was a good, few blocks away from his mark, the boy stopped and took a look at his take. It wasn't much, only a few tuppence and a brass farthing… it wouldn't even buy a loaf of bread, and he wanted more than bread. If he was to eat at all, then he'd have to find another mark, a better mark… a rich mark.

He exited the alley onto one of the nicer streets in London: Keats Avenue. He hadn't even realized he'd been walking so far, not that Glaston Row was an incredible distance, but still… he'd managed to make it to prime territory without thinking about it. This was good fate, though he'd have to be careful. The Bobbys were more watchful around those who paid their salaries, and there was more competition for the take here as well…

"I don't know, Ita…" a man in a black, silk top-hat and a fine suit whispered urgently, not even paying the boy mind, "Why don't you just give the Archon the ring? He can sort this out."

"There is not sorting this out, Jack!" another man snarled. He was wearing an expensive looking black silk traveling cloak, embroidered with red thread… a prime target if there ever was one. "You don't sort these things out… you just take what you can get and vanish."

"But the _ring_?" the man called Jack nearly squealed, "They won't stop hunting you!"

How lucky. They were both so preoccupied; they would never see him coming. The boy made himself look busy, carefully watching for sign of this "ring" they kept speaking about. Even if it were a cheap piece of gaudy, the could still sell it for hock… it would pay enough to feed him for two days at least. All he needed was to see the goods, then he could take it and be gone.

"That's what I need your help for," the man in the cloak said, bringing his voice down as he leaned closer to Jack, "I need to know who is after me."

"Right now they've only sent one Magarium," Jack cautioned, "But there will be more."

The boy scrunched his eyes together. This was why he didn't like the rich… they used words he didn't understand. What's a Margarium? Probably like the Magistrate he saw when the Bobby tried to cart him off to that orphan home. He'd lied through his teeth and managed to make it look like he had parents… and the Magistrate had just let him go. Yeah, the boy determined, they were probably talking about some other kind of police officer. Maybe they had stolen the ring? Then, if he stole it again, no one would ever come looking for him.

"Who?" the cloaked man urged, "I can't defend myself if I don't know who!"  
"Holmes," Jack said, visibly sweating.  
"Damn!" the other man swore, "He's back?"  
"_Apparently. _He finished the trip to reasoning in record time," Jack nodded.  
"Well it doesn't matter. As long as I have this, he can't touch me."

The man pulled something out of his cloak, and the boy's eyes widened. It had to be the brightest looking ruby he'd ever seen, and it was huge. It had to be worth a fortune, enough to set him for life, especially if there were a reward or something… yeah, people who owned stuff like that always offered rewards. Now all he had to do was watch, closely… left front pocket! Jolly on then…

Paying no more attention to their conversation, the boy made his judgments, formed a plan, and walked forward.

"Ouch!" the cloaked man shouted as something ran into him.

"Sorry, guv'nah!" the boy bowed low, scrambling backward, "It's me hat, too big for me head… can't sees where I'm going half the time, sir!"

"Get out of here you whelp!" Jack shooed .

The boy didn't need telling twice. He hot-footed from the scene and back down the alley he'd come from, clutching the ring to his chest tightly. Hade he been paying attention to his marks as they talked, he might have heard more about what they were doing and who they were, but sadly… his greed caused him to lose focus for the first time in his life. It happens to everyone at some point, though this mistake might have consequences he would have rather avoided.

[…]

It was dusk, and night was quickly falling over the city of London.

Smokestacks billowed as refineries continued to plow ahead and home fires began to get lit, warming up cold corridors for those returning from decent employment. Sadly the boy was not privy to one of those fresh fires, left instead to plow ahead into the cold night, hungry and still impoverished.

Not a single pawn man had bought the ring off of him, claiming that it was obviously stolen and that they "wouldn't tarnish their fine establishments with such thievery." Fine establishments indeed, all they did was swindle every person who walked through their overly embossed doors. Lamplighters were beginning their nightly vigil, walking the streets with their torches and lighting each of the street lamps one-by-one. The cobblestone roads and sidewalks were slowly cast in a flickering orange glow, and, as the boy moved through the night, he noticed the shifting from the golden light to darkness with each step.

Pulling his ragged jacket tighter, the boy turned down an alley, away from the lights. He had to get back to the hovel before his friends missed him. Not that they would come looking… too many of them went missing, either caught by the Bobby or killed by the weather. Only the tough survived, and only the smart stayed fed... and if you wanted to survive, then you stuck your neck out for no one. As if punctuating his failure, at that moment the boy's stomach decided to let out a loud growl. It looked like he was going hungry tonight. Curse his greed! He should have just taken the coin purse, like usual, and been done.

A loud, high pitched scream cut through the night, jarring the boy from his self-loathing.

The noise was unnatural; nothing he'd ever known made that sound. It was quickly followed by several similar cries, though they sounded farther away… and then another sounded, as if right above him, and the sound chilled the boy to his very insides. Shaking, the shivers coming from his fear as much as they did from the cold, the boy turned his head up… and he came face to face with a nightmare.

A creature hung in the air, latched to the wall by gnarled hands and feet. It had black, dry skin pulled taunt over a thin frame and tight bones… his mouth, where that hideous scream came from, had two rows of small, pointed teeth, a horrifying maw stuck onto a gaunt face. The hands, which held it to the wall, had dagger-like claws dug into the mortar and brick of the building it had latched to. It smelled of garbage, soot, and molten steel... and as frightening as all this was put together; it was nothing like the creatures eyes, or lack of in its case.

The monster stared had him with hollow sockets, darker than the night itself. The dark void froze the boy in place, promising horrifying things... things much worse than death, and, had his instincts not kicked in, that's just what the boy would have received. Only years on the street saved him, as he ducked just in time, barely dodging a swipe from a malicious, clawed hand.

It was a close shave, and the boy saw death much sooner than he would have liked. Deciding he would not like to have a second meet, for fear of it being a permanent visit, the boy fled, dashing down the corridor as if there were fire on his heels. An ear splitting screech told him that the creature had not given up; on the contrary, it told him that the monster was right on his tail.

Ducking, weaving, and using his vast knowledge of the London alleys, the boy put as many obstacles between him and the beast as possible, but it didn't seem to slow at all. He turned, darting through a hole in a building, and hoped to gain some sort of hiding place… but only succeeding in trapping himself like a mouse. He'd ducked into an abandoned warehouse, which meant he was in the factory district... and, unlike most of these warehouses in London, the owner had decided to clear everything out. There was nowhere to hide and no visible exit.

The creature landed before him with a snarl, those vile teeth clacking together as it crawled ever closer, reaching out those deadly hands.

The boy backed up until there was nowhere left to go, pressing himself against the cold, damp brick and willing himself to just sink through it and out onto the street outside, but he had no suck luck. The monster was almost on him… he was dead for certain, no chance of seeing another birthday, even though the parties were droll and he never got presents. Bracing for death, the boy squeezed his eyes shut, praying for it not to hurt.

"Erk…snk!"

There was a bright light, so bright that it managed to pierce through the boy's eyelids and still almost blinded him. Then everything was strangely silent.

Curiosity soon got the better of him, because he quickly realized he wasn't dead… which meant something had happened. Tentatively opening one eyes, the boy saw yet another odd and unexplainable scene.

A man was standing before him, dressed in a white duster and top-hat, a silver pinstripe vest and matching pants, and holding a fine ivory cane with a silver handle… and this was not the odd part. The odd part was that he had the cane speared through the creature's skull, and the cane's shaft was emitting brilliant blue sparks. The man sharply withdrew the cane, and the creature fell to the ground before literally disappearing into something resembling soot… it definitely looked like soot, and having grown up in London his whole life, the boy recognized soot.

The man twirled the cane with a flourish, before touching it back to the earth and leaning upon it with delicate ease, like any gentleman would, seemingly unaffected by the moment's events.

The boy stood and gaped, mouth open in shock.

"Trust me, my boy, you do not what to be inhaling that… _thing_," the man spoke with an extremely proper accent, which was kind of grating.

The boy looked up at the man, fully taking him in for the first time. He looked rich, like a proper mark should… but he also looked dangerous, which made him a bad mark. The boy didn't much care for bad marks.

The man wore an eye patch, covering his left eye, and a dark grey scarf which covered most of his face… so the only real visible part of his features was one eye, which was pale blue, his nose, and a few, spiky tufts of gray hair that couldn't be constrained by the top hat. All-in-all, the man was the epitome of elegance, and yet he looked lethal, and that was not because he'd just put a walking stick through something's skull either; though the boy found himself worried for his own head all of a sudden.

"What the hell wasdat?" the boy asked.

The man raised his visible eyebrow, "A skreeling…"

"Neva heard of it."

"No, I don't think you would have," the man shrugged, "They are creatures formed by powerful, dark _magik_… paid in blood, normally some poor bloke who didn't know what he was getting into. Sad really..."

The boy just looked confused.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry," the man said, "This is all going over your head. Just do me a favor and listen well, yes?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. Now, put your back to the wall and keep you eyes open. If you see one of those _things_, let me know immediately."

"There are more of 'em?" the boy exclaimed, looking around terrified.

"Oh yes, they never travel alone… normally groups of four or six…" he looked down at the soot, "I'd say, four this time. The residue seems right."

There was a high pitched scream, and without even looking, the man swung his cane in a backwards arc. An explosion of blue light caused the boy to squint his eyes, but he saw the cane skewer another monster like a morning sausage. The man drew his cane back, and the skreeling exploded into cinders, none of which got on the man's white clothing… something the boy found completely odd.

"I told you to keep your eyes open," the man sighed, "You aren't _slow _are you?"

Before the boy could register, a screech from above brought terrifying chills to his bones. Looking up, the boy saw one of the dark-skinned monsters detach itself from the ceiling, coming directly for him. Letting out a cry, the boy fell backwards onto his rump.

The man flicked his cane outwards, yelled something, and a bolt of blue light struck the skreeling... destroying it before it even got close to the boy. Then, the man spun elegantly, his ivory cane still glowing blue, and he sliced through a fourth creature as it appeared, cleaving through it like warm marmalade. Next, the man touched his cane to the ground, before the dust had even settled, and a bright pulse of blue light erupted in a shimmering shockwave, turning the empty building into a spotless, immaculate space. It almost seemed to sparkle with cleanliness.

[…]

"There, that's much better," the man said, adjusting his top hat so that more of his silver hair was visible, "Now they won't be coming back."

"They're gone?" the boy asked, getting back onto his feet.

"Yes, as gone as any magik can be."

The boy gave him an odd look, and the man just laughed. This seemed to irritate the young lad quite a bit.

"Who ya be, guv'nah?" the boy asked.

"Oh, such dreadful dialect," the man sighed, "The proper phrasing is: _who are you, sir_? Please repeat."

"Who _are _you?" the boy growled.

The young scamp left off the "_sir_", but it was best to let some things slide. Smiling warmly, he bowed to the boy, "Kakashi Holmes, at your service lad. I do say, you've gotten yourself into quite a predicament… um, I'm afraid I don't know your name?"

The boy scoffed, "My name t'isn important."

"But it's only polite, since you _asked _for mine."

Pulling his hat off, the boy dusted a hand through unruly locks of golden, blonde hair… hair that was oddly familiar to Kakshi, "Mah name's Naruto… not that it matters much to you."

"Naruto?" the man cocked his head to the side, even the name was familiar. "What, by any chance, might your surname be?"

"Dunno," the boy shrugged, "Don't got no family to give me one."

"Curious… I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were the spitting image of my late friend, Mr. Minato Watson. Poor man went and got himself killed while I was gone…" Kakashi frowned, "Terrible business…"

"I'm sure, guv'nah, but it's got nothing to do with me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that…" Kakashi said with a twinkle in his eye, "You did something to make _someone _very angry."

"I ain't done no such thing!"

"Oh, then... _how _do you explain the skreelings?"

"I don't!" the boy said indignantly, crossing his arms, "They's gone anyhow."

"Only a powerful magik user can summon a skreeling pack… and even them they only serve one purpose," Kakashi leaned over to lock eyes with the boy, "They hunt down _thieves_. So… what did you steal that could cause someone to break _several _laws which are _older _than this city?"

"I don't know what yer talking about?"

"Do I need to explain how many ways I can tell that you are lying?" Kakashi asked with a chuckle, "Or should I just find out for myself?"

Deciding that this was his best course, Kakashi flicked the white-gloved, index finger of his free hand. Invisible energy took hold of the boy and rummaged through his pockets, shortly bringing forth a small golden ring that was set with a large, brilliant, red stone. The ring hung in the air between them, sparkling brightly as it hung outside of gravity's reach. Kakashi stared at the ring with a mixture of surprise and slow-building anger, which crept into his voice, "_Where _did you get this?"

"Easy on, guv'nah!" Naruto said, taking a step back, "I only stoled it from a man on Keats Avenue… he didn't even notice me do it."

"Oh, he noticed…" Kakashi muttered, feeling no need to bring up the skreelings as proof, "This man, what did he look like?"

"Fancy fella," Naruto squinted, trying to remember, "Wore an s'pensive looking cloak…"

"Black with red embroidery?"

"That be the one, sir!" Naruto nodded, "Can I go now? I'll even let you keep the ring, guv'nah! Token of good will and all."

"I think you might want to come with me," Kakashi mused, speaking out loud for the boy's own sake.

"And why would I do that," Naruto asked defiantly.

"Because…"Kakashi gave him a wink, "I can give you a bed, a hot meal, and a warm place to sleep for the night… plus, I believe I was best friends with your father."

Naruto did a double-take at each announcement, particularly on the statement about his father… and the bed. He'd never had a bed. Once he'd slept on a soggy mattress that a hotel had thrown out, but then one of the larger street urchins had beat him until he gave it up, which had only taken about three punches for Naruto to realize it wasn't really worth the trouble.

"Why would you be saying that?" Naruto asked skeptically.

"Because," Kakashi said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a photo. He handed it to Naruto, "You look just like him."

[…]

Naruto gasped at the picture in his hands. It was him… well older, cleaner, and better clothed, but the man in the photograph looked identical to him. The man in the photograph was standing next to Kakashi, and they were both smiling. Surprisingly, Kakashi's face was still hidden in this picture, but you could tell his was smiling as well. The blond haired man's smile was so warm, Naruto could almost see the color in his cheeks and the sunlight in his hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Naruto felt something familiar about that smile, and he also recalled a deep, rich laugh. It was unsettling to be looking at someone who mirrored him so closely, as if he were seeing the future.

"Where did this come from?" the boy looked at the photo with extreme interest.

"Photolimetry with film..." Kakashi smiled, "So much cheaper than what they do today... I swear, in a few years, everyone will be using it!"

"This… is my father?" Naruto asked breathlessly.  
Kakashi nodded, "I believe so…"  
"Who is he?"  
"My dear friend, Minato Watson."  
"So… he's dead, then."

"Sadly," Kakashi nodded again, and the tone to his voice indicated that this fact was very troubling for him, "I believe that the man in the cloak is his murderer… and that he was killed for this ring, which you stole."

"The ring?" Naruto focused on the shining piece of jewelry which still hung suspended in the air. So much was happening so quickly, so much information, it was easier to just focus on the things he could be certain of.

"Yes," Kakashi said, his voice hard, "It's an extremely powerful artifact which was entrusted to your father… only his blood and his kin are supposed to be able to use it effectively, but it's never been tested. The fact that you could touch it without any magical protection only offers further proof to my theory that you are indeed his son."

"So… this ring… and your cane… and those… things," Naruto spoke slowly, "They are magic?"

"In the broadest sense of the word…" Kakashi sighed, "They are all inherently connected to _magik_."

"That's what I said," Naruto growled.

"We're not going to argue semantics," the older man smiled, "You'll learn in time."

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean that your father would have wanted you trained," Kakashi said plainly, "And I fear it is partially my fault that he's dead and you were left without a home… had I not been so invested in my own research, had I never left, I might have been able to prevent all of this…" There was a long pause, where Kakashi looked off into the distance, his eye focusing on something, "But then again, the differing of fate is not something to contemplate at the moment. What I can do now is make certain you are taken care of, educated, and properly trained… it's what Watson would have wanted."

Naruto gave him a blank state, having lost understanding about ten words in, and given up interest after the second sentence.

"Yes…" Kakashi sighed, "I fear you are a bit slower than I would have imagined… you must take after your mother."

"My mother… is she?"

"I'm afraid you are indeed an orphan," Kakashi said apologetically, "But you will become my ward, and I'll fix what I can."

Naruto nodded sadly, his last hopes of having a parent completely erased.

"Come now, lad, chin up…" Kakashi offered brightly, "Only moments ago you didn't even know who you were. You can mourn later, _after _you are fed and rested…"

Naruto nodded again, but he couldn't shake the feeling of sadness in his gut.

"There's a good lad," Kakashi's eyes twinkled as he smiled, "Now, shall we get going?" Kakashi plucked the ring out of the air, muttering something as he pocketed it, and he then he held a hand out to Naruto.

"Um… isn't th' door that way?" Naruto pointed.

"Too time consuming," Kakashi yawned, "And too dangerous considering who may be looking for the ring."

"Then how…?"

"By **saltractus**," Kakashi said simply. Naruto gave him a stupefied look, and Kakashi let out sigh, "A space-jump…" When Naruto still gave no sign of recognition, Kakashi gave up, "Look… without giving you a proper lesson… just know that it will send us from here to my house instantaneously."

"That I can dig, guv," Naruto grinned.

"You're awfully cheeky," Kakashi commented.

"Yep!" the boy laughed, "So whats we gonna do when we get to your house? Do ya have a cook?"

"I do indeed have a chef," Kakashi raised an eyebrow, "But I think the first order of things will be teaching you how to properly speak… shall we say that each proper sentence will earn you a meal?"

"What!" Naruto exclaimed, "But that's so 'arsh, guv'nah!"

"Then you'll learn quickly won't you? Kakashi smirked, raising his cane. He whipped it up in a flourish and brought it down on the ground, tapping out a pattern. Every time his cane hit the stone floor, a pinpoint of blue light appeared, shining brightly. A series of five touches formed a tetrahedron image on the ground, and Kakashi pulled Naruto close to him as he stepped onto the icon of blue light. The man spun on his heel, and the world around Naruto blurred as if it were wet paint which someone doused with water.

As quickly as it blurred, the colors sharpened, coming into focus as an entirely different scene. They were standing on the sidewalk of a fairly well-to-do neighborhood. All of the houses were at least two stories, with iron fences, which blocked off their courtyards and property. Most of the houses looked to be fairly well maintained, the street was full of bustling automobiles, elegant horse drawn carriages, and a flock of well dressed pedestrians… all prime marks for a clever cut-purse.

"Keep your tendencies to yourself, boy," Kakashi warned, "They'll be no pick-pocketing allowed here."

Naruto nodded, realizing that if he played his cards right he'd never need to pick another pocket as long as he lived.

"Good, then allow me to welcome you, m'boy," Kakashi motioned with this cane, "to Baker Street!"

* * *

_**Thursday, May 12th Night**_  
_**Docking District, London, England**_  
_**Year of Enlightenment: 1875**_

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Ita?"

The man turned towards his friend, pulling his black cloak over his head, hiding his face from view, "Yes, Jack."

"But… it's not fair. Let me come with you!"

"No."

"But…"

"I said, no," the cloaked figure silenced his companion, "Holmes has the ring, and there will be more Magarium after me before an opportunity arises to reclaim it. My only option is to leave London and search for… other means of obtaining the power I need."

"But…"

"No matter how many times you say that word," the man said coldly, "It changes nothing. I cannot go back, not after what I've started."

"Then what do I do?"

"That's easy," the cloaked man smirked, "You're Jack Deidara, famous surgeon… promising mage… you get yourself promoted."

"And what about you?" Jack whispered, hope in his voice.

"I'll figure something out… and I'll be back. And when I do return… I'll be paying Holmes a visit."

* * *

Ah! *cough* *cough* Uh, sorry 'bout that... but I'm afraid that your ten pounds has run out. My throat's a bit dry, if you understand what I'm saying, good visitor? No? What do they call it these days... we called it greasing a palm, bribes are what they call them now. Yes, a bribe...

It's very simple, this story don't come free; in fact, I'm telling you this at great risk to my own personal well-being! So, if you want to hear any more... well I'm not opening my mouth with another word until I get another ten pounds!

Are we clear?

* * *

_**~A/N~**_

_**Ah, this was so much fun to write. I particularly like trying to convert my native accents into words... which is quite a challenge, but an enjoyable.**_

_**The narrator is probably my favorite character at the moment (though that won't last for long) but she's booking for reviews. Did you catch that? pound = review. :P**_  
_**Haha, but I'm not going to hold my story for ransom, though it would be nice... (bwahaha!) So please let me know what you think, what you have questions about, because I suspect there are a great deal... but know that everything is going to be explained, especially the lore (haha, inside joke with myself for the time being) and the setting. If you are itching to read more, I suggest Naruto: Kurashio (or any of my fics) or... go find user Kreatyve and read her story Lets Play a Love Game (because it's amazing).**_

_**Much love to all my readers!**_  
_**~Sara**_


	3. Apprentice is Pissed

**Disclaimer**:** I do not own Naruto**, **nor do I own Sherlock Holmes**. Thank god Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is dead, otherwise he'd be a vampire-zombie-evil thing that must be destroyed... and, no matter how many times I offer to sleep with Mr. Kishimoto, he won't give me the rights to Naruto. I should mention though, that **aside from character names... this entire story is MINE. **

_Hello, _

_Welcome to chapter 2. Hopefully you'll enjoy it, because this is my attempt at filling you all in on what the world of L.O.R.E. is all about, because, quite frankly, that's the whole premise of this piece: mixing 1800s history with Magic and a dash of Naruto fun. So... enjoy, let me know what you think. And I hope it intrigues you and makes you laugh. Much love!_

_~Sarai_

* * *

**_The Apprentices of Baker Street_**  
_**Chapter 2**_

Ah, you've come back. I knew y'couldn't resist learning more… that's the way it is with these kind of tales. They worm their way into your brain, twisting and turning little thoughts until you can't sleep until you've figured it out. You know, that's why so many people believed in the legend of Sherlock Holmes, oh aye! Indeed, he was a man who solved many a problem, and he was a man plagued by the inability to let a question rest.

No… no a question of science or religion… but a question of something much, much more simplistic, but also the kind harder to find an answer for:

A question of truth.

But, now I'm getting ahead of myself… when you last stopped by we'd just gotten to Baker Street, am I right? Yes, of course I'm right! I'm telling this story after all.

Well, Holmes had just taken the young Watson under his wing, promising to make him a magician and all that… which was fine and good. Holmes was living up to a promise he'd made the boy's father, and, while he wouldn't mention it aloud, Holmes also hated being by himself. It's the curse of being very old… you tend to get lonely.

Ah, I can see the confusion in your eyes. See… magicians have a very special energy flowing through their veins. Don't ask me to describe it for you, because I couldn't even if I wanted—well that's a lie, but I'm not about it explain it to the likes of you. You can't come up with a good ten pounds, so now I'm doing this completely out of charity. Heh…

Anyways, because of this energy… Magicians don't age like you or… well, your friends. They live for a very long time. You remember the story of Merlin? Well according to the archives of knowledge, in all the history that is writ, he was the first magician… and he started everything that I'm about to tell you…

Though I think it is important to tell you one more thing before we start. See, when Holmes took the young Watson under his wing; he more or less made the boy his apprentice. Ordinarily there would be nothing wrong with this, but, well... ya see, Holmes had already been assigned an apprentice…

Yes, y'heard me correctly…

[…]

_**Thursday, May 12th Night**_  
_**Baker Street, London, England**_  
_**Year of Enlightenment: 1875**_

"This is your house, Guv'nah?" Naruto breathed, straining his neck he looked upwards. It was a three story construct of red brick and white stone, and it was part of a line of similar houses, each of which screamed out their affluence.

"The upper floor is mine," Holmes chuckled at the boy's fascination, "The rest of it belongs to the L.O.R.E."

"The _lore_?" the boy looked up at him with some confusion, "I dunno, sir. It looks pretty real to me… why would part o' it be myth and the other part yours?"

"Ah, see, there I go again… expecting you to know things that normal Mages your age would be accustomed to."

"I ain't no mage, Guv'nah!" Naruto protested, but at a sharp look from Kakashi he quickly corrected himself. He wasn't one to forget about the threat of no supper, "I mean, sir… I'm not no mage!"

"Close enough… for now," Kakashi sighed. He rapped his cane twice, sharply on the door. Blue tendrils of light snaked their way over the polished grain of the wood and into the keyhole; the door opened with a faint "click" and some unseen force.

Once inside, Holmes tossed his hat and coat onto the nearby rack and proceeded to lazily drop into the nearest chair, "As for your question…"

"What question?" Naruto said, obviously not paying attention. The boy was far too preoccupied with his surroundings: two, velvet armchairs with embroidered pillows, polished hardwood floors, vases, paintings, tapestries, curtains… and this was all merely in the foyer. The boy was craning his neck about so quickly that Holmes was almost certain Naruto would get whiplash.

"About L.O.R.E.?" Kakashi reminded him.

"Oh, yeah… that owns this house, right?" Naruto nodded.

"Yes, it does," Kakashi sighed and massaged his temples with the tips of his fingers, "And before I can start training you… you have to know what it is."

"I know what L.O.R.E. is…" a snide voice came from off to the right.

Holmes opened his eye and turned towards it. There, standing in the doorway to the visitor's parlor, was a boy… probably a year older than Naruto. He had jet-black hair and was dressed in a very expensive three piece attire—black pants, white, cream shirt, and a silver vest with black pinstripes.

"_Odd_," Holmes thought to himself, "_If he can afford such clothes; then why on earth does he let his hair look like a gander's ass?_"

"Oh! You know who lore is"? Naruto turned his amazement on the other boy, "I thought Mr. Kakashi was talking about fairy tales, but then he said that lore owned this here house… so then I figured it musta been a person."

The black hair boy looked down his nose at the blonde, "L.O.R.E. is most definitely _not_ a person… and it's not something for a mundane like you to be speaking of. Is it, Master Holmes?"

It took Kakashi a second to realize that the focus of the conversation had been directed at him, "Hmm? Oh! …yes, and you are?"

"Moore… Sasuke Moore," the kid said, as if expecting Kakashi to know who he was.

"Ah, Mr. Moore it is then," Kakashi nodded politely, "And this… is Mr. Watson… my apprentice." He gestured to Naruto.

"What?" Sasuke looked at Kakashi with complete dumbfoundment, "But… that's not possible."

"Why not?" Holmes looked at the boy as if he'd been touched in the head. Surely Fate wouldn't be so cruel as to give him two slow children to deal with in one day?

"Because," Sasuke growled, "_I'm_… your apprentice."

"Oh…" Kakashi mused. He reached up into the air above him and pulled a pipe literally out of thin air, lit it with a snap of his fingers, and began to puff on it thoughtfully. The room filled with a shimmering, gold smoke which smelled faintly of chestnuts. Naruto walked around the vapor, mesmerized, whiles Sasuke began to tap his foot impatiently.

"Well…" Holmes said finally, "That's no problem at all."

[…]

"No problem at all?" Sasuke's mouth was caught somewhere between falling open in exasperation and tightening into an intense frown—the overall appearance made him look a bit daft.

Naruto couldn't help but snicker at the uptight boy.

"And you! Who they hell do you think you are?" Sasuke snapped.

The blonde's humor faded, "None o' your business. I don't got to answer to no puffed up dandy!"

"It most certainly is my business!" the raven snarled, "I haven't wasted a year of my life, waiting around for some air-headed master… only to be replaced by a common guttersnipe!"

Naruto bristled before responding as any child his age would have, "Now I'm brassed off you arrogant tosser!"

"Just the kind of response I'd expect from a nitwit," Sasuke smirked.

"Say it again, nancy boy!"

It was Sasuke's turn to bristle, "I said such insults would be common coming from an urchin prat."

"Arse!"  
"Imbecile."  
"Sod off!"  
"Get stuffed!"  
"Make me, y'bastard!"  
"I wouldn't waste my time, idiot."

Their argument was cut short by a sudden fit of coughing, which was coming from Kakashi. Apparently, he'd been doing his best not to laugh at the pair of them and had inhaled on his pipe a bit too generously, causing a bout of coughing to bring to light his silent laughter.

"Oh, don't mind me," Holmes chuckled after he recovered, "I quite enjoy watching the pair of you act barmy."

"E'started it!" Naruto pointed at Sasuke, "This stuck-up, silver-spooned nancy is lookin' down on me!"

"I can't help it," Sasuke smirked, "You're a good half-foot shorter than I am."

Without warning, Naruto pulled back a fist and swung it toward Sasuke. The blow slammed the taller boy directly in the groin, much to the registered shock of both the raven and Holmes—who burst out into laughter.

Sasuke fell to his knees with a groan, followed by a stream of intellectually minded curse, all of which Naruto couldn't understand, but knew they were insulting, so he kicked the boy for good measure. The raven fell onto his side, the wind rushing out of his lungs with a muffled: "oof!"

"You violent, uncouth piece of street trash!" Sasuke coughed, his wind finally coming back to him, "That was uncalled for."

"That's why I'm short, sah!" Naruto said indignantly, adjusting his tattered bowler in superiority, "All the better to be fight dirty."

"I'm going to kill you…" Sasuke struggled off the floor with a growl; however, he still hadn't managed to get to his feet. He looked haggard as he knelt there before the smaller blonde.

"Now now," Holmes said, getting up from his chair, "There'll be none of that. I can't have my apprentices killing one another."

With a great deal of effort, Sasuke pulled himself to his feet. He tried to look as dignified as possible, but, having just been floored by a much smaller individual, there was absolutely no way for that to happen. The boy straightened out his vest before turning to Holmes and completely ignoring Naruto, "You and I both know that L.O.R.E. only allows one apprentice per-Mage."

"Per-Mage, yes," Holmes nodded, "But the rules are entirely different for a Magarium."

"You…" Sasuke looked incredulous, "Are a Magarium?"

"What the heck's a magarmy-um?" Naruto asked, "Those guys I stole the ring from were talking about one. Are you some sort of Judge or sumthing?"

"Are you stupid as well as uneducated?" Sasuke asked, "Or are you incapable of comprehending things unless they are spelled out for you?"

"Listen 'ere you bastard!"  
"I don't listen to idiots!"

"Enough!" Holmes snapped. Both boys stopped arguing and proceed to look at opposite corners of the room.

With a sigh Kakashi swung his cane toward two armchairs. The inanimate objects practically leapt up from the floor and whooshed over to do his bidding, coming up behind the two boys and forcing them to take a seat across from the Magarium.

"Now…" Kakashi said, taking his seat again and re-lighting his pipe, "Down to business."

[...]

"First of all, Mr. Moore," he regarded the raven, "I'd like to know how you got into my house."

"I've been living here for the past year," Sasuke said. He made not attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice, rather he did his best to glare at the older man… as if he looked long enough he might burn holes through him.

"Intriguing," Holmes mused. He took a few puffs on his pipe as he considered this, "I assume that you finished your basic training then and were assigned to me?"

Sasuke nodded.

"How odd…" there were a few more silent moments as he puffed again, "The _Canthus _doesn't include teachers who are away to reasoning."

"It's not so odd," Sasuke shrugged, "The High Archon changed policy a few years back. All of the Magarium are kept on the wheel in order to keep up with the overflow of new students."

"Ah, yes… that would make most sense. Tell me, Mr. Moore, what is the population level this year?"

Sasuke thought for a second…

"Census last said it was over twenty million, sir," Naruto smiled, as if he were happy to be adding something to the conversation.

"My how things change in twenty years," Kakashi chuckled.

"You were only gone to reasoning for twenty years?" Sasuke's mouth hung open, "No one's every completed the trip that quickly."

"It's a L.O.R.E. record, or so I've been informed," Holmes shrugged. He never really put any thought into setting a record. He just wanted to finish as quickly as possible. There were more interesting things to deal with in _this_ world; why should he spend more time than necessary elsewhere?

"It even beats the record set by the High Archon himself," Sasuke muttered, obviously impressed with the information.

"Ah, but if I am correct in my knowledge… the Archon set that record over two hundred years ago. I have had the privilege of reading not only his thesis… but also those from the past two hundred years. It was an unfair advantage."

"Will someone please tell me what in the bleeding world is goin' on!" Naruto finally wailed, pulling his much-too-large hat down over his eyes, "I is getting so confused! Guv'nah, I'm beginning to think you're both cracked! What the hell is a cantus? And who is this archon fellow, and for that matter, how can anyone be taking a trip t'reasoning? Oh, and for the sodding record you still 'aven't told me what the flippin', flyin', foppin' hell a lore is!"

"Wait…" Sasuke held up a hand to stop Naruto's rant, "You really don't know what L.O.R.E. is?"

"Haven't we already covered this, y'bastard?"

"Idiot…" Sasuke growled, "I thought you were joking… _poorly_." He turned to Holmes, "Where did you find him, some back alley gutter?"

"Well, to be accurate it was a warehouse," Kakashi eye the two boys with intrigue, "But… yes."

Sasuke sighed heavily, turning to ignore the both of them. Kakashi merely chuckled at the frustrated boy and made to answer a few of Naruto's questions, "First off, a _cantus _is a particular type of magic, while _The Canthus _is a magical object created by the first Order of Magic. It was forged in the dark ages and is considered to be a tool of true enlightenment. It discovers newly born children with magical power and assigns them to someone who is best suited for their training."

"A gross over-simplification," Sasuke muttered.

"Be that as it may," Kakashi continued, "The High Archon is the head of all Magi in the world. He is also the primary magical adviser to the Queen, much in the same way that Merlin was the magical adviser to King Arthur."

"Please," Sasuke laughed, "You expect him to know about Merlin?"

"Hey!" Naruto protested, "My friend Kiba told me all about Merlin. He made Excalibur, a magic sword wit the power to win any battle, then he gave it to that King Arthur fellow, and they made a magical city… until some lady named Queen Mab tried to destroy it and Arthur was killed and Merlin trapped himself and the evil Queen ina tower for eternity.""

"See!" Holmes exclaimed, "He knows enough for now."

"He knows nothing by a butchered myth told to him by another street urchin!" Sasuke pointed exasperatedly, "He's done none of the required training… and he knows absolutely nothing about the Lasting Order of Reason and Enlightenment!"

"What's that?" Naruto asked, tilting his head in confusion.  
"L.O.R.E." Kakashi said with a smile.  
"What's lore?"  
"What you just asked."  
"I know what I just asked. I want to know what that lasting order thing-it is!"  
"It's L.O.R.E." Kakashi grinned madly, apparently enjoying himself.  
"What's lore?" Naruto wailed.

"The Lasting Order of Reason and Enlightenment!" Sasuke shouted at the blonde, ruining Holmes' game. "The four major letters: L-O-R-E, that makes L.O.R.E.!"

[…]

"Oh…" Naruto's eyes widened with sudden understanding, "I gets it now."

"**No**!" Sasuke snapped. He was completely fed up with this nonsense. His master was apparently a sadistic moron who lived up to every "crack-pot" rumor that existed within the order, and his latest crack-pot idea was to try and make a street urchin into a Mage, which, frankly, wasn't possible.

"You don't get anything! That's because you haven't had any of the lessons, you've read none of the books… I doubt if you can even read!" Sasuke shouted, jumping up to his feet.

"And you!" he pointed a finger at Kakashi, "I doubt you're even qualified to teach anyone about magic. I've only seen you wave that cane around. You probably can't do magic without it!" Nearly trembling with rage, Sasuke jabbed a finger into his chest, "I trained for nine years… _**nine years! **_I'm the most promising Mage in decades! Yet I get stuck waiting around for some insane Magarium to bring in an idiot to replace me? I refuse to have my training suffer for your impulsive, unauthorized whims!"

Sasuke was breathing heavily now, and it was the only sound that cut through the silence.

Naruto was looking at the raven as if he were a mental patient, which, to anyone observing, he had just acted like, and Kakashi was merely sitting there eyeing him with a completely unreadable expression—and not because most of his face was hidden.

"Well, Mr. Moore," Holmes said finally, "I cannot force you to stay here, but you do know the rules. They won't assign you another teacher…"

"Unless I can prove that they are unqualified," Sasuke countered.

"Oh?" Kakashi's eye twinkled with sudden interest, "Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?"

"A Wizard's Duel," Sasuke nodded sharply, "According to the rules set in place by Merlin and Morgan Le Fay."

[…]

"Very well then…" Kakashi rose with a flourish, whipping his cane in a wide circle. In a brilliant flash of light, the walls of the parlor began to rattle, creak, and moan as if they were straining under an intense weight. Suddenly there were loud popping noises, like breaking boards, and the room suddenly began to elongate, stretching into a lone hallway. The furniture began to shuffle and shamble into a different accommodation set entirely—in a matter of minutes the entire room had shifted from a sitting parlor into a huge dueling hall, like the ones a person might see within a palace—set up for banquet exhibits.

Torch lamps lined the walls, as did an assortment of weapons, shields, large wooden planks, and shelves-upon-shelves of glass vials—all filled with various colours of liquids. Naruto had no idea where the stuff had come from, and he didn't have time to ask.

"Mr. Watson," Kakashi tossed his cane at Naruto, "If you would be so kind as to hold that for me."

"But…" Naruto held a finger up to interject.

"I won't be needing it," Kakashi answered his question without even hearing it, "I would recommend not moving from that spot though.

Naruto nodded, gulping in a deep breath as he watched the two Mages face-off.

Sasuke and Kakashi stood about a foot apart. Though they had about a two-foot difference in height, Sasuke looked up at the older man imperiously, "Do you want to count it off or should I?"

"Be my guest," Kakashi gestured politely, bowing and giving Sasuke permission to start.

Sasuke did not bow; rather he turned his back on Kakashi and took a single step, "One." At the number, Kakashi also turned and took a step. Naruto thought for a moment that the older man was smiling, but surely that couldn't be? He would have to be daft if he were smiling about having a duel with a child… and how were they going to duel? Neither of them had weapons. Wait… the bastard had said wizard's duel. Were they going to use magic?

"Ten." Sasuke's voice sounded like a shout in the quiet hall. The raven quickly spun and threw his hand out towards Kakashi, "_CALEO_!" Naruto noticed for the first time that Sasuke was wearing a black chain on his wrist, and hanging from that chain was a large, onyx pendant circled with diamonds. It would have been a perfect target—if he were still pickpocketing, but he wasn't.

The moment Sasuke shouted the word, the pendant began to glow bright orange, which Naruto barely caught, because a fraction of a moment later a giant ball of flames exploded from Sasuke's hand and roared towards Kakashi.

Naruto covered his eyes with his hands, not wanting to see the pile of ashes that Kakashi would be burnt into, but there was no explosion—no sound of burning wood, not even the sound of flames. The only thing Naruto heard was a soft "pop" and the sound of wind. As the blonde peaked out through his fingers, he saw Kakashi standing there perfectly unharmed and Sasuke had a look of frustration on his face.

[…]

"How did you?" Sasuke furrowed his brow in contemplation.

"I sent it to another realm… one I discovered on my trip to reasoning," Holmes gave a disapproving shake of his head, "You're spell probably burnt up a poor mome rath."

"A what?" Sasuke and Naruto both said at the same time.

"Oh, yes… you wouldn't know it to be true, but Lewis Carroll was once a brilliant Mage," Kakashi made a "tsk, tsk" sound as he hung his head in respect, "Sadly his trip to reasoning didn't go well… and he ended up thinking he was an author upon his return. Such a sad state of affairs, but at least he writes a compelling story!"

"You're telling me that you nullified my entire cantus?" Sasuke asked dumbfounded, "By by sending it to Wonderland?"

"Of course not, my dear boy!" Kakashi scoffed, "That would take entirely too much effort. I merely sent it through a portal-rift to Wonderland, which requires much less energy. Better to send it somewhere else, where I can't be bothered to deal with it."

"Hmph!" Sasuke squared his shoulders, and raised his hand to shout another spell.

"I think we're done here," Holmes brought a hand up and snapped his fingers before Sasuke could even open his mouth. A violent, blue shock-wave of light exploded directly in front of the raven-haired boy, blasting him backwards.

Sasuke slammed into the far wall, having sailed about twenty feet through the air, and left an impression in the plaster from the impact. Before he could even remove himself and get back to his feet, Kakashi pointed a finger at Sasuke and drew an "X" in the air. Gleaming bands of blue energy appeared out of the wall and wrapped themselves around the boy, binding him in place. Naruto had to chuckle, because it looked as if Sasuke had been pasted to the wall with a large, blue "X".

Grunting and struggling against the spell, Sasuke tried to free himself, but it was no use. The raven was stuck. Sasuke opened his mouth, as if he were going to cast a spell like before, but Holmes stopped him with a warning.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Kakashi wagged a finger at him.

"Why not?" Sasuke shot back.

"Because you have no idea how I formed my spell," Kakashi said as if it were something anyone should know, "That is the difference between _cantus_ and _muntus_. Spoken magic has more control, but your opponent knows exactly how your spell is created. Silent magic takes practice and extreme mental discipline, because you have a tendency to harm yourself if you are distracted… but if you can master it, the _muntus_ spellwork is much safer for fighting another magic user."

"I could always dispel it," the raven countered.

"I promise you," Holmes cautioned, "If you tried… you would be unconscious in seconds."

"Ugh!" Sasuke growled, struggling against his restraints again, as if he could will away the futility of the action.

"It's obvious that you still have a great deal to learn," Holmes sighed, "You set up no protective charms or defensive barrier, you didn't attempt to see if I had one… you attacked. You allowed your irritation at the current situation to blind you to the fact that everything you do, from now until you leave my service, will be a lesson. I have not doubt that you were one of the most promising students at the Academy, but out here it is an entirely different game. I expect you to use your head, do we understand one another?"

"Perfectly," Sasuke nodded begrudgingly.

"Good," Kakashi clapped, and in an instant the room was back to its original state, and Sasuke was freed from the wall. With a motion, Kakashi gestured to Sasuke and Naruto's chairs before taking his own seat again. "Now… where were we?"

"You was going to tell me about reasoning, Guv'nah!" Naruto grinned as he hopped back into his chair. The boy pulled off his bowler and set it in his lap, getting comfortable as if he were expecting a good story.

"Ah… I think that would be a lesson better left for later on… down the road," Holmes said thoughtfully.

"Aww… but I want to know!"

"As sad as it makes me to tell you know, Mr. Watson, I'm afraid there is no way I could adequately explain a trip to reasoning… not until you know more about the world around you, and, quite frankly, there are more important issues ahead of us at the moment."

"Like, how he isn't even a registered Mage?" Sasuke offered, "Or how he doesn't have a _vis modulator_?"

"A vees what?" Naruto asked, scratching the back of his neck as he looked around in confusion.

"A magical item which can control of the flow of _vis_," Sasuke rolled his eyes. When Naruto's expression only got more confused, the raven sighed and tried to explain again, "Look… it takes energy in order to perform magic, right?"

"I guess so…"

"Well the energy required to perform magic is located inside of your body, in fact you can find _vis_ in almost every living thing, but only a handful of humans have the ability to store this energy within their body," Sasuke stood up and began pointing, "Hands, wrists, head, chest, stomach, and feet… these are the most common places that energy is stored in the human body. A common mage will have access to at least two of these places… I have been assessed to have access to five. The same amount as the High Archon."

"And myself," Holmes spoke up, before taking a puff on his pipe. A second ago he hadn't even had it, so Naruto guessed he must have pulled it out of thin air again.

"Does use all of 'em?" Naruto asked curiously.

"It's believed that Merlin and Morgan Le Fay had access to all six," Kakashi mused.

"But it hasn't happened in any of the recorded logs," Sasuke countered, "And that's what matters. You'll be lucky if you have access to three, but I doubt you even have enough potential to be considered a mage."

"Oh, he does…" Holmes chuckled.

"I do?" Naruto looked at him wide-eyed.

"How do you know?" Sasuke crossed his arms, daring Kakashi to prove his statement.

Rather than answer the boy, Holmes reached into his vest pocket and pulled out the ruby ring which Naruto had pick-pocketed and tossed it to the blonde.

Caught by surprise, Naruto fumbled to catch the ring as it jumped from hand-to-hand, trying to make it to the floor. Completely by accident, the boy managed to get a finger through the gold band and it slipped on to his hand. There was a small pop and fizzle of red sparks as the ring slid on, and then in the next second it began to shrink in size, fitting to Naruto's small finger perfectly.

"That's…" Sasuke breathed, unable to finish his sentence.

"The Kyu Ruby," Holmes nodded, "Stolen from the Archon's tower by the fugitive Itachi Moriar and pick-pocketed by Mr. Waston here."

"It should have burnt him to cinders," Sasuke was still in shock.

"Unless he is a member of the Volpes bloodline," Kakashi shrugged, "Which… apparently he is."

"You mean this thing coulda killed me!" Naruto shrieked. He jerked on the ring, trying unsuccessfully to pull it off.

"It could have when you first touched it," Kakashi nodded seriously, "But that was before we had even met… I didn't see a point in bringing it up since you were obviously alive."

"But," Sasuke said thoughtfully, "How are you still alive, Mr. Holmes?"

"Just Holmes or Kakashi will be fine."

"Fine, Kakashi… why didn't it kill you," Sasuke asked this as if someone had stolen his Christmas present.

"Because I handled it the same way that the High Archon or his villainous nephew would have… I handled it with magic," Kakashi explained, "Not my hands. The ring never actually touched my person."

"That would make sense," Sasuke nodded.

"It won't come off!" Naruto squealed.  
"That's because you have to mutter the incantation to remove it," Holmes explained.  
"What's the incantation!"  
The older man shrugged, "I haven't the foggiest."  
"But… how am I s'posed to know?"  
"You'll learn it eventually."  
"What am I gonna do 'til then?" Naruto wailed.

"Sleep with it on…" Kakashi chuckled, "And it looks like we've solved your modulator problem as well.

"Oh! That's grand that is, Guv'nah!" Naruto groaned, "Telling a poor lad to sleep with some evaperatin' killing device on his finger!"

"Incinerating is the appropriate term, Mr. Watson, and I assure you that you are completely safe," Kakashi reassured, urging the both of them to vacate the room, "Mr. Moore will show you to the apprentice quarters. The building is only meant to accommodate one… so I'm afraid you'll have to share."

Naruto and Sasuke gave each other a horrified look, before turning to Kakashi and shouting, "_**What?**_"

* * *

_~A/N~_

_And scene!_

_So, what did you think? huh? As always,** I answer any an all questions** that are sent to me in the form of a review. So seriously, if you want to talk to me... or **ask a question**, or tell me something, or completely insult me... do so **with the review button**. Why? Cause I'm a whore. Plain and simple._

_A few minor notes:_

_- a Canthus is actually Latin for "wheel"._  
_- Muntus actually means "silence"_  
_- Cantus is a form derivative of "song", which I thought was very poetic. You have to sing magic into existence, and there are many cultures in the ancient Asian beliefs that thought music was a form of magic itself. So there you have that._  
_- For anyone wondering about the levels within L.O.R.E. they go: Inducted Student of Magic, Apprentice, Adept, Mage, Magarium, Magister, and High Archon. Most Mages are taken in at the age of 1, once they have the ability to speak somewhat and walk... and they normally finish their training at the age of 15. Sasuke finished at the age of 10, so go Sasuke._

_Read, Enjoy, **Review**... and I love all my readers!_

_~Sarai_


	4. Attend the Tale

_Hello everyone! Hope that you've been waiting for this... cause I'm very pleased with some of the plot devices I've created._

_I have several notes to deliver with this chapter, so I'm going to put the bulk at the end of the chapter. What you need to know is this: I have a new review incentive. For every five reviews I will pick one of my reviewers and draw them a picture of any character from the story... their choice. They'll get a signed copy of it and they'll get to see it two weeks before any of the other readers. So if there are five reviews = 1 drawing (and a character sketch album will be make for TABS); 10 reviews = 2 drawings... ect. So... REVIEW! Of course I'll still respond to any and all comments or questions. Also, don't forget that Naruto: Kurashio got a Double chapter update this week... go read!_

_Now on with the story!_

* * *

_**The Apprentices of Baker Street  
**__**Chapter 3**_

Eh… telling these stories is no easy task, let me tell you. It's so hard to figure what you people need to know about certain events in order to understand what's gonna happen next. Huh… lemme see.

Well, I think that it bees fairly obvious that young mister Watson and mister Moore didn't get along well, if that first meeting is any kinda indicator? But what you need to understand, before I tell you anymore about L.O.R.E. or their training methods… is their purpose. Ya see, Holmes was always known to be a sharp, keen detective...which is a load o' rubbish.

Sure, he hunted down many a criminal and other unsavory types which were up t'no good… but he didn't do it for random strangers. Ha, that man was far too much of a high n'mighty superiorist to deal with the mundane masses of London in the late nineteenth century. So many people, in this "enlightened" age, were so far from enlightened that Holmes mainly stuck to his connections within L.O.R.E. or focused upon his own research.

The incandescent light bulb? Holmes is partially responsible for that one. Carbon paper? His handiwork. Perhaps you've heard of the Skittle? A spell gone wrong which hit a dish of candy in Holmes's apartment… admittedly that spell was the result of an argument between mister Watson and mister Moore, but since neither of them claimed the spell, and since Holmes figured out the proper conjuration to make the strange candy again… completely his creation, y'see?

Of course he never patented these flights of fancy, no the man was too busy moving onto the next thing his curiosity could conjure up.

In fact the only thing that tore him away from his curiosity was training the boys… or a case.

Actually, that would probably be the best place to go next… that first case, well in order for you to understand that, you'd need to know why it was a case in the first place… or what kinds of cases L.O.R.E. generally deals with… Oy.

First, ye can probably guess that magik has been around for a long time, right?

Well, like anything that has existed for centuries, magik comes in many different forms… and some of 'em aren't pleasant. L.O.R.E. exists for this very reason. When Arthur and his people were besieged by the sorceress Morgan Le Fay, along with a slew of other magicians at that time who had gotten tired of Camelot and its rules, Merlin gathered together his apprentices and any mage with a good head on his shoulders. They came t'gether in order to form a strict adherence to a specific kind of magik, the kind they called "Enlightened Magik", which was focused upon the betterment of humanity.

This was how L.O.R.E. essentially came into existence. It was a society of magik users, dedicated to keeping a firm control on the spread of evil… be it in the form of monster, supernatural phenomenon, or even other magik users who had placed their own power above the betterment of civilization. For any commodity, well… you gotta have laws, and L.O.R.E. are the bobbies who keep the magical community in line.

They started by keeping England in check, then they spread t'all of Europe, Asia… then L.O.R.E. covered the globe. Every corner of the planet is broken down in to these regions called Echelons, which are governed by a Magister. The Echelons are broken down into Sectors called Sortis, which are controlled by Magarium. All of the magik users in a Sortis answer to their local Magarium, the Magarium answer to the Magister Council… and the Magister Council is overseen by the High Archon.

THe High Archon is th' most powerful magical user at the time, and nearly every High Archon can trace their own blood back to Merlin… which means somethin' in the magical community, lemme tell ya.

Now, L.O.R.E. does a very good job of keeping their noses in all parts of the world's affairs… be it politics, economics, war… they is always there, and most of the time things happen because they wants it to happen. Wanna know why they keep their noses in every pie on the window sill? Because that's 'ow you find out if someone's been playing with the wrong magiks.

L.O.R.E. spots 'em, and then the Mages and Magarium swoop in like perfectly trained hawks.

Of course the laws and regulations of L.O.R.E. are very "civilized"… and in order to keep up that appearance, they assign cases whenever there is an occurrence of those who are, well the polite term is "suspected of improper magik use"; however, if you talk to any Mage who's been in t'game for a long time… they'll tell ya that these people are dark magik users… sorcerers, witches, warlocks, wizards… none of these be a good term. If you don't hold a L.O.R.E. title, and if you practice the magiks? Well, you'll most likely end up in a prison, locked away in some realm or another that don't be existing on this plane…

They erase you.

Of course, if you don't have a L.O.R.E. title, and you be practicing magik… chances are that yer most certainly up to no good! Otherwise you'd be working with L.O.R.E. At least that's how they see it, and you gotta admit… there's no reason any self-respectin' magik user wouldn't want to work for L.O.R.E.

Heh, the gold is good.

Anyhow, what you need to understand is that these kinds o' people do pop up… not frequently, but these cases tend to appear, and when they do… the Magarium are the ones who investigate, and out of all the Magarium... Holmes was best known for not only finding out th' truth but also getting the fastest results. So when you realize that he not only had toto teach his new apprentices the finest art there is: the art of weaving magik, but he also had to teach them 'ow to investigate and counteract "magik of the unsavory variety", I'm certain you can understand just how talented the man really was.

Unfortunately for misters Watson and Moore, their first case almost killed 'em, and it was because this was no ordinary case. In fact, to understand it best you need to know the details that started this particular case, and for you to understand completely… I'm gonna have to tell you about a man by the name of Zabuza Barker… or you might know his as:

Sweeney Todd.

[…]

_**Monday Morning, May 5th  
London Courthouse**__**  
**__**Year of Enlightenment 1855**_

"Mister Barker," Judge Yagura Turpin called down from a high his stained, black oak podium, looking down at the miserable man before him, "You have been found guilty of crimes against the Kingdom of Britain. Heinous crimes of which include treachery and conspiracy against the crown…"

The accused man couldn't even muster the courage to look the judge in the face. He'd done none of these crimes, in fact… he couldn't even remember how he'd gotten to the courthouse. One moment he had been taking a walk through the open air market with his wife and year-old daughter, and the next he was accosted by several members of the local police…

That was the last thing he could remember before gaining consciousness at his own trial, where apparently he was already being sentenced. He'd be lucky if he got away with his life from what he was saying.

"We have witnessed testimony," Judge Turpin continued, "From Beadle Kisame Bamford… as well as the evidence found in your barber shop. In light of this appalling and irrefutable incrimination, I am left with little choice."

The man hung his head and prepared to meet his imminent death, when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of flowing, yellow hair. His eyes shot up and saw, much to his horror, that his beloved wife was among the gathered onlookers. She said not a word, only holding back her silent woe… but he could see another emotion behind the sorrow that not even a veil of tears couldn't hide: shame. It was obvious that whatever testimony had been rendered against him; his wife believed he could be guilty of these crimes. The pain of such knowledge tore at the man's heart.

"I am both pained and saddened by the burden of my office, but I must give sentence to these crimes…" The judge raised his gavel high, "You are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment at the penal colony of New South Wales." The gavel fell with an echoing "crack!"

The judge then turned to the Beadle, "Take this treacherous monster out of my courtroom… and may his years in hell teach him the lesson he couldn't not learn in this life."

"No!" The man screamed, "I'm not guilty! I did nothing wrong!" As two uniformed bobbies grabbed him under the arms, the man struggled, kicking and screaming and fighting against his shackles. "Please! You can't do this! I didn't do it!" With these last words he made eye contact with his wife, hoping beyond anything that she might believe him; however, when she turner her head away, he lost all will to continue struggling.

"I hope that in time you will find peace, Mister Barker," the judge said in a echoing monotone, "But may God have mercy on your soul if you cannot…"

As he was drug from the courtroom, the last thing the man saw was an odd grin pass between Judge Yagura and Beadle Kisame, the two men who completely controlled the law in this section of London, and with this horrifying revelation he knew: he'd been framed.

The thought drove him mad, and he cried out with rage and anguish as the dark, polished wood doors closed upon the life he once had…

[…]

_**Penal Colony, New South Wales**_  
_**Day Unknown**_  
_**Year of Enlightenment 1856**_

The pick hit rock, sheering off the surface with a dull scream of metal upon stone… showering the man holding the tool with dust and bits of grit.

Rock and dust…

His life had consisted of nothing more for so long now… or not long at all. Who could know in a place like this. Time didn't flow; it merely meandered on, each second flowing into the next like molasses on a winter day. This far down inside the quarries, prisoners barely got an hour or two of sunlight at the best times of the year. Darkness, lamplight, cold air, and sore muscles… those were how he measured time. If he wasn't exhausted or in excruciating pain, then it was probably morning or something close to it. When the sun did appear it was time to eat the one meal he was give, little more than stale bread and water left over from cleaning the floors of the prison complex.

When it felt as if he couldn't walk anymore, couldn't swing the pick axe again, then it was almost night… this is where he was now. Only a few more hours and he would be allowed to sleep.

"Alright you sorry slobs!" the overseer shouted out, cracking his whip, "Get your lazy carcasses moving! You don't want to waste that precious bunk time, now would ya?"

Sleep already? The man wondered to himself… surely it couldn't be that time already. He wasn't exhausted enough; he hadn't wanted to fall on his pick axe to escape the agony. Surely the man was wrong and this was a sick joke!

"Barker!" the overseer snarled, lashing his whip against the man's back, "I said t'move!"

The whip stung, but he'd long gotten used to it; the pain was familiar now. The man nodded and fell into line behind the other prisoners, who followed the winding path back to their barrack. The building was little more than wooden slats and a thatch roof, but to the British Army… even that was too good for prisoners. The way they probably saw it was that there would always be fresh prisoners, so everyone of them was expendable.

After an uncertain amount of time, he reached his bunk, falling upon the thin mat with a sigh of relief. Sure it was sleeping on mite infested hay, stuffed into a patchy, linen sack, but every moment sleeping on filth was a moment he didn't have to beat away at the earth. The man closed his eyes, ready to drift away from this world into the one place where he could find some peace…

"Psst! Barker!" a gnarly voice whispered at him.

The man cracked one eye but didn't say a word. The person who'd addressed him was an older prisoner, one who had been here when he'd arrived. The man always wore a ragged cloak, black from all the dirt and grime. His face was hidden beneath the hood of the cloak, but, from the state his hands were in and the way his voice sounded, it was apparent that this prisoner was much older than the others, which was an impressive feat… but also quite sad. The man couldn't understand how someone could want to survive for so long in a place like this.

"Heh… because one of these days I won't be here," the prisoner laughed.

"What are you talking about?" the man asked, trying to hide his shock.

"Don't play dumb, boy," the old man's laughter faded into a chuckle, "I can see right through ya…"

"How?"  
"Magik!" the cloaked man wove a hang through the air.  
"Rubbish."  
"Then how come I know ya don't feel as tired as normal today?"

The man paused, perplexed at the sudden feelings of violation he had… no longer wishing to be in this conversation.

"Your wife isn't the solution to your problems, boya," the old man said harshly, "Are we really going to keep doing this? I though y'were smarter than the rest of these inbred, uneducated miscreants!"

"Ok…" he whispered, reassuring himself more than answering the old man, "What are you?"

"Heh heh… that would be telling," the elderly fellow shook a finger at him, "Let's just say that mah punishment doesn't nearly fit mah crime."

"Then… who are you?"

"Isn't it only right that you give me your name first? Or maybe it actually is barker? You do somewhat remind me of a dog," the old man chuckled.

"Zabuza…" the prisoner replied, "My… last name is Barker."

"Eh… you still sound like a dog."

"What's your name, old man," Zabuza growled, wondering to himself why he bothered to waste his rest on something so bizarre.

"Old man?" the cloaked prisoner sounded offended. As if to protect his honor, the man straightened up and brought both hands up to his hood, drawing it back slowly. The face revealed was actually quite young, pale from years deprived of sunlight, but it looked no more than mid-twenties. The man had shock-red hair, a pair of piercing, grey eyes, and upon seeing Zabuza's shock he smirked wickedly, "See… not so old am I?"

Before Zabuza could even apologize, the man burst into a fit of ragged coughing, which then turned to laughter, "Oh, no need to apologize… my appearance can be very deceiving."

"_Who _are you?" Zabuza asked again, more intrigued than he was before.

The redheaded man smiled, "You may call me… Sasori."

The way he said the name, it was cold… ominous, as if the very mention of it somehow made the already dim lanterns flicker, casting the room in heavier shadows.

"For such a cynical man… you are quite superstitious, Zabuza," Sasori chuckled, "So tell me… what brought you to this humble place"

"I… think it's only polite that you tell me why you are in here."

"True," Sasori smirked, "Especially since I now know all about your… _innocence_." He said the word with a tinge of doubt, smirking as though he didn't believe it to be true.

"I _**am **_innocent," Zabuza growled.

"Easy on, lad…" Sasori held up his hands, "I'm not here to judge… besides my crime is far worse. You've of course heard of _the Black Death_?"

Zabuza's first instinct was disbelief, but something in those dark eyes booked no denial. This man was quite serious. "How long have you been in here?" Zabuza breathed.

"Hmm… since about the eighteen hundred and forty-eighth Year of Enlightenment," Sasori contemplated, "I was working on another disease… I named it Cholera. It had such wonderful results in Russia, but ye really don't get the same test conditions as y'do in England. Sadly, the constabulary was more… efficient than in years past. I only got a few months of testing before I was apprehended, but I managed to convince them that the means were… not _precisely brought on by magik_. So I was sent here rather than more appropriate punishment." Sasori looked sad for a moment, then he spoke again, "Strangely Cholera is not as effective as my last spell… I only managed two thousand a week with this one."

"Two thousand what?" Zabuza asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

"Deaths." The word was spoken blunt and without remorse, as if such a thing were obviously the desired result.

"I see…" Zabuza didn't know what to say. Here was a man, claiming to be hundreds of years old and taking responsibility for so much death that it couldn't be properly calculated… and they were having a conversation about magik and death like it were normal conversation for tea.

"I haven't had tea in years, not that I couldn't mind you…" Sasori sighed, "It's just so hard t'keep magik hidden these days, and the guards would be incredibly suspicious if a pot of tea appeared from nowhere."

"You keep talking about magic," Zabuza muttered, still skeptical, "How do I know you aren't one of the mental patients they shipped here from Bedlam?" He desparately hoped this man wasn't insane; Zabuza wanted magic to be real more than anything… because if it was real, then this man might be able to get him out of here, and once he got out… he would make the man who did this pay. He would make anyone involved in his incarceration pay. "Prove it," Zabuza commanded.

Sasori smirked, a glint of challenge in his eyes. He raised his fingers and snapped. For a moment, Zabuza didn't think anything had happened, but as he looked at Sasori, trying to figure out what was going on, he had to wipe the rain off his face to see clearly. Wait… rain? Zabuza whirled around and noticed that they were standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean, clearly on the coast. He could see the lights glittering in the distance and new that was where the quarry and prisons were located, but they were miles away.

"H-how?" he stuttered.

"Still skeptical?" Sasori grinned.

"No…" Zabuza breathed in astonishment, "If we're hear… why haven't you left?"

"It's complicated," Sasori frowned, "There are things guarding this prison other than the soldiers… things specifically designed to keep magik users in, just in case they slip through the system."

Zabuza frowned as well. If this was true, then even if he could learn magic…

"Do you still want revenge?" Sasori asked.  
"Yes." It was not a question that needed asking.  
"Would you learn if y'could?"'

Zabuza paused. Something like this wasn't a choice to make lightly… if he agreed, no telling what a monster like Sasori would do to him, or if he would become something similar. What if magic made anyone who touched it turn out like this crazy man before him… but, if it could do things like this… maybe it was worth it. He could easily get his revenge from such power… did it matter what he became? Again, it wasn't even a question that needed asking. He'd already lost everything.

"What do I need to do?"

"We see if you have any potential…" Sasori smirked, "And then I'll tell you how yer going t'help me get out of this forsaken place."

[…]

_**The HMS Delphinium  
**__**June 12, Midnight  
**__**Year of Enlightenment 1874**_

Zabuza was free…

The concept was still so foreign to him. He'd spent almost twenty years in that hellhole, and in that time he had learned more about the world than he had ever wanted to know… but because of it, he knew all that he needed to fulfill his plans for revenge. He knew how to do things that most people only dreamed of in their feverish sleep, and he also knew that there would be other people who would try and stop him… and they could be more powerful. Sasori had taught him how to be careful.

He would miss Sasori…

In a way, Zabuza was almost sorry for killing the old warlock… almost, but Sasori had been a monster, no better than the men he was out to kill. Sasori would only have killed more people had he escaped the prison. True, Zabuza had needed Sasori to escape, but the man had made an error in letting Zabuza understand the magical protections… and taking advantage of them, the way they limited Sasori from how often he could access his magik, Zabuza had slit his throat before the man could board the ship.

The world was better off without Sasori in it… and the man's knowledge would live one. Zabuza would make certain of it.

No, he wasn't Zabuza Barker any longer. He couldn't go back to London with that name; Sasori had explained that many times… he had a new name now.

"Mister Todd?"

Zabuza turned to meet the gaze of a young, raven-haired child. "Sasuke," he nodded, "Come to watch the ship dock?"

"Yes," the boy nodded, "There's no place like London… it's almost magical, especially at night"

"You have no idea how true that statement is boy," Zabuza huffed.

Sasuke looked at him curiously, as if trying to get a read on him. Sasori had given him similar looks, looks that meant he was trying to read Zabuza's mind; however, one of the first things he had learned was how to keep his thoughts to himself. The fastest way to die in a magik encounters was to let the other magician have access to your thoughts. If they could read you, then they knew your every action… you were dead.

It was laughable to think that this boy was a Mage though… he was just a boy coming to London for his apprenticeship. That was all he ever talked about. Zabuza looked off into the night, remembering what London held in store for him personally, and he hoped with all his might that Sasuke had a brighter future before him. One thing was for certain, Zabuza was going to make certain that no one ever had to suffer as he had…

"Mister Todd… is everything alright?" Sasuke asked, sounding worried as the older man's eyes glared harshly into the dark.

"I've been to many places in this world, Sasuke, but mark my worlds when I tell you this," Zabuza said coldly, his voice rough, "There's a hole in this world… a pit filled with people all vile and despicable. They're the vermin of the world, and they infest this place with their greed, their treachery… their evil."

Sasuke's eyes widened, "What place is this?"

Zabuza's eyes narrowed as the ship turned hard right, entering the main harbor, "It goes by the name of London…"

"I… don't understand… if London is so horrible, why is it the center of the world?"

"You are young, Sasuke. Life has been kind to you…" Zabuza sighed, "But you will learn. The world is a set of stairs, all holding people in this world… and at the top of the stairs sit a privileged few, and they make sport of the people below them, turning beauty and life into filth and greed… you'll never see a more frightening, or wondrous, sight to behold than the cruelty of men."

"Mister Todd… you've been a good friend to me on this trip, so I will take what you have said into consideration, but…" Sasuke trailed off as the ship's bell tolled, signaling the end of their journey. Sailors hurried about, tying off masts and rigging as they latched the ship into place. They would be docked within moments.

"It is here that we go our separate ways, Sasuke" Zabuza hefted his satchel. It held the books Sasori had given him, a flask, and the knife which had taken his mentor's life… these were the only possessions he had in the world, other than the shirt, vest, pants and boots he was wearing. They would be all he needed for the time being. "I wish you well…"

"Will I see you again, sir?" Sasuke asked.

"Perhaps…" Zabuza whispered, walking toward the gang plank where he could exit the ship, "If you ever find your way down Fleet Street."

He left the boy to his own devices, his mind on other things. He wanted to get home; he needed to see his wife and daughter… to see how they had faired in his absence. It would be a long walk, and he'd have to stay out of the public eye to avoid being recognized. He walked swiftly, head down and with purpose, but he still managed to catch his reflection out of the corner of his eye…

Zabuza didn't even recognize himself.

He was gaunt and pale… thinner than when he'd left London so many years ago, but he was also lean… his muscle more defined. His hair had also started to turn grey; several large streaks of the silver color ran through his dark, black spikes… and his eyes, they were dark. Where they had once been a brilliant cerulean, now they were a deep indigo color.

Sasori had said magik affected one's eyes, but Zabuza hadn't expected it to be so drastic.

"How different it all seems…" he whispered.

[…]

_**Fleet Street, London  
**__**June 13th, Morning  
**__**Year of Enlightenment 1874**_

Everything was different.

Fleet Street, from his memory, had been a in a well-off district of London. People could raise a family there without a worry, the shops were bright, and place was at least clean… but now? It was a dirty, dingy, rundown specter of what Zabuza remembered. The buildings were faded, the streets were muddy, paved with grimy stones… even the air seemed to somehow be darker than it should be, despite the fact that the early morning light was beginning to filter in through the smoke and haze of a typical, cloudy day in London.

His house and shop were also different, something which greatly distressed him as Zabuza stood outside the familiar window. Where it once had been "Barker's Barber"… the window was now painted with fading, gilded letters which read: _Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies, Best Pies in London._

Lovett? Why did that name seem so familiar to him.

He stood there for several moments, trying to recall the vague itch in his memory, but nothing was coming to him. He stood there until the shop's proprietor came down stairs and unlocked the shop doors, placing a "welcome" sign in the window. The shop owner was woman, fairly young looking for a pie maker, and something about her seemed all-too-familiar to Zabuza as well.

Feeling the need to work out this unnerving sense of familiarity, Zabuza pushed in on the shop door, and stepped inside the shop.

It was nothing like he remembered. The polished wood floor was scuffed, marked up from a constant pedestrian traffic. The walls were lined with cabinets behind counters, and there was a small iron stove installed in a corner, along with a tapped keg, blackboards with written menu items… and a slew of cooking tools. Nothing of his shop remained.

Hearing the door open, the shop owner turned around, "Oh! A customer! Do come in, sir."

She beckoned him to sit down, pulling out a chair. Her voice, though soft, sounded deeper than most women he had encountered… admittedly that number had been few in the past decade. Zabuza stared intently at the woman, trying to figure out why he knew her.

"What'll y'be having, dearie?" she asked, dusting her hands to remove some flour. The white powder came off her hands directly in Zabuza's face, causing him to sneeze.

"I… don't have any money. I just got into port last night," he said grimly.

"Oh? A traveler?" she asked, going behind the counter and pulling out a plate.

"Something like that," he replied.

"Hmm… don't get many travelers in m'shop," she smiled.

Why was she so familiar? That long brown hair didn't strike him as something unique to remember, nor did the voice… and he skin, while pale and unblemished, wasn't particularly luscious. Her eyes were a little gaunt too, much like Zabuza's own… and they were a dark blue color, almost violet in color. Wait… why were violet eyes so familiar to him?

"Here y'go, dearie… on the house," she set a pie down in front of him, "Don't expect much from it though… probably the worst thing you'll ever eat in your life."

"But the window…"

"Gets people to come in," she laughed, "And they pay before they eat… girl's got the right to advertise, don't she?"

Zabuza nodded, looking at the pie warily. It looked like a perfectly good pie, golden crust and freshly warmed. Surely it would be better than what he'd been eating in that dank prison? He picked up the spoon, dug out a hefty bite from the center of the pie, shoved it in his mouth… and instantly wanted to wretch. The taste was horrid, and Zabuza would have given anything for a cup full of the wash water he'd been drinking only months before.

"Ere… drink this, you'll need it," the pie maker set a flagon of beer in front of him.

Zabuza picked it up and drained it in seconds. Even the stale, bitter taste of the ale did little to wash the taste from his mouth. "That truly is… horrible," he wheezed.

"I warned yeh," she shrugged, then went towards a doorway at the back of the dining area. If he remembered correctly, it led to the parlor. "Oy?" she called, "You coming? I'll give you a tot of gin… good for washing out the taste."

Zabuza rose from his seat and followed her. Indeed, she had taken him into her parlor… which mildly resembled what he could remember, but the furnishings were all changed and the wallpaper was most certainly different.

"I see you admiring my wallpaper," she smirked, "Got if from th' chapel which burnt to cinders down the street… only part of it that's singed is the bit in the corner." With a finger she pointed over behind a small upright piano, and indeed the wallpaper was scorched, but it was well hidden.

"It's very… colorful," Zabuza remarked for the stark difference the white and blue had with the rest of the colorless room. All the furniture was either brass or dark wood.

"Place needs a little life… what with times being so hard and all," she sighed.  
"Um… Mrs. Lovett…"  
"Miss," she corrected him, "Not married."

"Miss Lovett…" Zabuza nodded, "If times are so hard… why don't you have the upstairs room rented out? Surely it would fetch some good money?"

"That up there?" she looked aghast, "No one will go near it… people think its haunted. Most won't even step through me doors for fear of ghosts!"

"Ghosts?" Zabuza was surprised by the revelation.

"Yeah…" Mrs. Lovett looked sad for a moment, "Something happened up there… something rather horrid. The bloke before me was carted off down south… to prison. Left behind his wife and child he did."

Zabuza almost started at the mention of his arrest, but long years repressing his anger allowed him to stay somewhat calm. "What was his crime?" he asked stiffly.

"They say he was a traitor…" she said thoughtfully, "But I say it was foolishness."

"Come again?"

"He had a very lovely wife…" She explained, "I knew them both very well… Barker was his name, Zabuza Barker. Anyways, he had a pretty little thing of a wife, but he didn't notice how many other people was looking at her. 'Specially two… this Judge… Yagura, I think? He's some big wig in parliament now… and the Beadle Bamford… they wanted her they did."

"And he didn't know?" Zabuza breathed. He still couldn't remember this woman, nor did he know how she could have known him or his wife, but if what she said was true… How could he have been so blind? It all made sense now. It explained why the Judge and the Beadle were so happy while he was being drug off to die in prison.

"Never suspected… poor thing," Mrs. Lovett took a seat on her divan, plumping a pillow and motioning for Zabuza to sit, "Now, why don't you tell me your name, luv?"

"Uh…" he froze for a moment, before quickly taking a seat, "Sweeney… Sweeney Todd."

She looked at him curiously and then smiled again, "Well, Mr. Todd… surely we don't need to be talking about such dreadful things anymore?"

"No!" he said sharply, startling her, "I mean… please, go on."

"Oh… um, very well," she paused thinking for a moment, "Well… once Mister Barker was out of the way, the Judge invited his wife over to _apologize, _only anyone could tell that apologizing was the last thing on that man's mind. Poor girl walked right into a trap… got raped at a party full of rich, bored, high society types." Mrs. Lovett shuddered, "She never recovered. I remember trying to help her, but the girl was beyond help. Went to the apothecary down the corner one day… bought arsenic… and that was it. Left her poor child an orphan that day."

"She… died?" Zabuza felt a pain in his chest, but he pushed through it, breathing carefully, "What about the child?"

"Well, I guess the Judge had a heart after all, cause he ended up adopting the girl…" she smiled, "Guess at least one of 'em had a happy ending. She's in all the high society gossip these days. They say she's set to take over her father's court when she's old enough… "

"No!" Zabuza shouted, standing up furiously and turning his back on the woman, "I don't want to hear any more!"

"I knew it!" she said, eyes wide with amazement, "It's you! God, the years haven't been kind t'you, but I'd recognize that face anywhere… it really is you…" the last words come out as a whisper, but they might as well have been a nail in the proverbial coffin of his amenity, "…Zabuza Barker!"

_**

* * *

**_

~A/N~

_**And that's where this chapter is going to stop. I guess our little turn is going to last for two chapters, because it's just going to take more to flesh everything out (for the people who have never seen Sweeney Todd or read String of Pearl), plus the story isn't going to follow the same twist and turns because… well… this is partially a Naruto Story AND it has to tie in with my "overarching" plot!**_

_**So… hope you enjoy it, and here are a few notes:**_

_**1.) Yes, Sasori is dead. I know, some of you may want to know more about him… but he was just a cameo, and I wanted to give you an idea what some of the "dark wizards" in TABS are capable of, to let you know what Kakashi actually does as a job. Yep. He stops people who are capable of creating the Bubonic Plague. I actually got this idea because in 1848, in London, there was an outbreak of Cholera where about 2000 people died every week. I'm like: "Hmm…. This reeks of magical involvement for my story!"**_

_**2.) I actually had to move the timeline for Sweeney Todd up several decades… it actuall first appeared in 1795, BUT the story you all might be familiar with (especially the broadway/Burton version) didn't become published until 1867... So I figured, with creative priviledge… why not have Sweeney Todd happen in congruence with my story.**_

_**3.) HMS actually stands for His/Her Majesty's ship, which is a title that has existed in the British Navy since 1790ish. Also, the HMS Dephinium was an actual ship in service at the Victorian Era… so, the more you know.**_

_**4.) Sasuke's appearance in this chapter is actually a year before the events in chapters 1 and 2 (as you obviously know), but if you know anything about the Sweeney Todd story, then you'll realize that he is taking the place of Anthony (whom I cannot stand) so expect some interesting twists to this story that you haven't seen before.**_

_**5.) I know that some characters in the story say "magik" while others say "magic"... what you have to understand is that some people are uneducated in this story and therefore refer to it as "magic", which is of course... incorrect. Therefore, "magik" is the appropriate term, and if you see it spelled any other way... that character is confused. Hence you will see a change in Zabuza's thought process where it goes from "magic" to "magik"... hence he has become "educated".**_

_**As always… read and review!**_

_**Much love!**_

_**Sarai**_


	5. A Lesson Learned

_**Here we go...**_

_**The story continues in this chapter. It's more of an informational/set-up chapter preparing you for some intrigue and whatnots in chapter 5, but I have SO MUCH freaking information for both history and the magik side of this story, that sometimes you're just going to get chapters like this. I'd apologize, but... well it's not my style (and frankly I liked this chapter).**_

_**On another note, I want to say congratulations to YouBurnedMyFuckingEyes. You are the winner of my first drawing. Your prize? A signed, HD image file of Kakashi Holmes! I'll be sending you a PM to get your email so that I can send you the attachment. The same thing still applies for this chapter. If there are at least five reviews, I'm going to be doing a drawing of Naruto and Sasuke. So review if you want a chance to win it. That's all for now. Read, review, and much love from me!**_

_**~Sarai **_

* * *

_**The Apprentices of Baker Street**_  
_**Chapter 4**_

Zabuza stood up stiffly, eyeing the woman coldly, "I don't know how you know that name… and I'm sorry that you do, but… I can't afford…"

"I'm hurt, you know? I really am," Lovett said with a frown. She didn't even appear fazed by the murderous glint in Zubuza's eye, or if she was the woman didn't let on. With a shrug, she turned her back on the convict and walked towards an ornate, polished-wood, folding screen, "Of course it _has _been nearly two decades, and it's not like this get-up is helping your memory…"

Zabuza watched with his head cocked in confusion as the woman disappeared behind the slats of the screen. When the first piece of clothing was thrown up over the top, he averted his eyes out of embarrassment. Was this woman insane? Why was she changing in front of him?

"Of course, I'm still a bit hurt that y'didn't recognize me," something about her voice had changed, it was deeper now, "After all, I remember you even after all these years… and given 'ow much you've changed. I deserve some credit." There were a few seconds of silence, which Zabuza didn't mind, and then Miss Lovett reemerged, "Does this help jog your memory?"

The pie maker came out from behind the screen as a completely different person. She had her long, dark hair pulled back in a pony tail, and her outfit was different as well. The laced-up, frilly dress was gone, replaced by unbuttoned, white shirt and a pair of black pants, and Zabuza suddenly noticed that she was exposing herself.

He made to avert his eyes again… but there was nothing to expose. Well there was nothing indecent, but plenty exposed itself. First and foremost was immediately apparent: Miss Lovett was male. After this realization, Zabuza's memory was suddenly struck with recollection.

"Haku?" he asked incredulously, "Haku Lovett…"

"Right on the money, Mister Todd," he gave Zabuza a wink.

"But, what about your bakery down the way?"

Haku sighed, "Hard times… people don't have a use for cakes or cookies; then, when they shipped you outta town, the neighborhood started declining… I had to make ends meet, though I tell you making apple pies'not the same as meat pies. I barely make enough to pay m'taxes."

"And no one," Zabuza paused and motioned to Haku's appearance, "Notices?"

"That I'm a man pretending t'be a woman?"

"Aye," Zabuza cleared his throat, "That would be the question."

"I've been found out a few times," Haku smirked, bringing a hand up to his chest where he began to fidget with a pendant that hung around his neck, "But I have ways of… _persuading _them not to tell."

"I don't give a _damn _about your proclivities," Zabuza sighed, "I have my own problems to deal with." He fell back into his chair, with his arms hanging limply over the sides, and proceeded to glare at the floor

"Hmm…" Haku eyed the convict with a cunning glint in his eyes, "Have you got any money?"

"What's that?" Zabuza asked, looking up from his brooding.

"I asked if you've got any money," Haku bent down, placing a hand on each arm of Zabuza's chair and looked the convict dead in the eyes, barely an inch between them. The pie maker grinned wickedly, as if he were suggesting something.

"No…" Zabuza growled, "No money…"

It was Haku's turn to sigh, pushing himself up right, "Then how are you going to live?"

"I'll live," Zabuza grit his teeth, "If I have to make do off of rats in the sewer… I'll live, and I'll get my revenge!"

"The sewers? Please," with a wave of his hand, Haku dismissed the idea, "Come with me." Without waiting for Zabuza to consent, he grabbed the taller man's hand and proceeded to pull him towards the stairs. They walked in silence. Each footstep kicked up years of dust into little clouds which emitted small thunderclaps of groans and squeaks from the wooden steps that hadn't been traversed in years.

When they reached the door to the second story room, Haku released his hand. Zabuza expected him to reach for a key, but instead Haku again reached up to touch the pendant around his neck. Haku then reached out his other hand, twisted the knob, and the door turned as if it were on perfectly oiled hinges… not the worn out, abandoned thing that it appeared to be.

Haku entered the old, dust covered shop room without hesitation, but for Zabuza, every step he took was like wading through an ocean of memories. The room was in disrepair, items rusted and covered in years of grime… but everything was exactly like he remembered it. The doll he had bought for his daughter still lay in the corner, though her porcelain face lay in shattered shards on the floor.

"Ah… here they are," Haku was kneeling on the floor and had pushed a trunk out of the way, revealing a hole cut into the plastered wall, "When they came for the girl, I hid them. Never knew if you were coming back, but I couldn't let some scavenger come and steal 'em." Haku pulled out a wood box wrapped up in a blue cloth, removing the cloth and blowing on the box to clear the dust that clung to it's polished surface. Haku opened the lip to reveal a row of six, polished razors all gleaming as brightly as they had the day of their creation. With a smile, Haku offered them to Zabuza, "You could be a barber again."

Reaching a tentative hand out, he removed one of the razors. He flipped the blade out and marveled at his reflection in the polished blade.

"Those handles is chaste silver, ain't they?"

"Silver…?" Zabuza looked at the blade with a new realization, "Yes… silver and pearl."

"I could have sold em, I'm sure," Haku looked at the instruments wistfully, "Coulda easily got twenty… maybe thirty quid for a pair, but… it just didn't seem right."

Zabuza smirked, "These… will do perfectly."

[…]

_**Friday, May 20th, Morning  
**__**Baker Street, London  
**__**Year of Enlightenment 1875**_

"Today's topic…" Kakashi said, tapping his cane on the breakfast table, "Vis Modulators." Instantly, the flat cakes, biscuits, eggs, and sausages all vanished and were replaced by a variety of metals, rocks, shining gems, and an assortment of other items that all looked expensive. To a former pickpocket like Naruto, it would have been the haul of a lifetime…

If it hadn't taken away his breakfast.

"Agh, wachter doin', Guv'nah?" the blonde cried, "I was eatin' that!"

"Hn," Sasuke groan, "Do you have to be so abrasive this early in the morning?"

"What's am I gonna do without food in mah stomach!" Naruto continued crying, "I'll waste away I will!"

"If you were down for breakfast on time," Kakashi cut off the boy's caterwauling, "Then you would have been fed. If you had voiced your complaits in a suitable diction… you would have been given lunch. Put your best foot forward and we'll see about dinner."

"What? Y'can't do that, Guv'nah!"

"Moving on," Kakashi said, motioning to the table. "The past few days I've been teaching you how to properly access and become attuned to the flow of vis energy within your bodies."

"Which I already knew how to do," Sasuke muttered.

"And which you could still use a great deal of improvement, Mister Moore," Kakashi retorted without breaking stride, "Today, I am going to explain to you about the many different type of vis modulating elements and how they are utilized in day-to-day items. A mage never wants to be without a modulator… while it is possible to perform magik without one, the mage does so at great risk to their own bodies. Many have died attempting even the most simplistic of spell without a modulator."

"How'd they die?" Naruto asked, scratching the back of his neck, "Aren't we supposed to be able to focus this vees stuff?"

"Vis," Kakashi corrected, "_Vee-sss. _The 's' is drawn out… and that is a very good question."

With a wave of his cane, Kakashi produced a pot of water, a bag of yeast, and a measuring cup, "All of this comes from the bakery down the corner, so I'll have to return it… but it will suffice for today's lesson." He picked up a measuring cup and then opened the bag of yeast, "This cup is a vis modulator. It measures out the necessary amount of vis from your body to perform a specific spell, allowing the mage to focus on the spell work necessary… and concentrate on the surrounding environment, without the need to calculate advanced physics, calculus, spatial paranomics, and a slew of other mathematics which you children would never understand even if I were to explain them to you for the next two years…"

"Moving on!" Kakashi dipped the cup into the yeast and poured it into the pot of water, "Notice how the yeast foams, but does not flow over the brim of the pot? That is because, the measuring cup gives me the precise amount of yeast I require for this size pot of water. Now… if I were to attempt the same thing with just my bare hand and not use the measuring cup, I would risk not having enough yeast, or…" Kakashi dipped his hand into the bag and poured a handful of yeast into the pot, which after a few seconds flowed over with foul smelling foam, "I would use too much, and… as you see it's a ghastly mess."

"So you're saying that a mage would risk using too much energy for the spell he is trying to perform?" Sasuke asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That is only one of the many deadly occurences that could take place," Kakashi said in a serious tone, "Use too much energy and your own spell could backfire or consume you in it's effect… or you may expend more energy than your body has, which would kill you instantly. There's no stopping it. Once a spell is perform, a mage is bound to complete it. Which is why you must always be careful not to perform new magic without careful supervision and the proper modulators."

"You said there was other ways it could be deadly, Guv'nah," Naruto spoke up, "What's them other ways?"

"The other ways _are_," Kakashi stressed the proper wording, "A mage could use too little energy, in which the spell wouldn't even perform, leaving them vulnerable. They could also become too focused on channeling the energy and not be mindful of their surroundings, which also makes them vulnerable… and… it also leaves them at risk of _**adulteritas**_…"

"Contamination?" Sasuke was puzzled.

"Yes," Holmes nodded, "Vis energy exists outside of our bodies as well, in many different forms. Some of these are toxic. Amateurish mages can accidentally tap into these energies without a modulator, and the occasions are most _always _lethal."

"Most always?" Sasuke asked.

"There have been a few cases where healers, throughout our histories, have been able to extract the _**adulteritas**_; however, that energy was taken into their own bodies. The healers saved the mage at the cost of their own lives… so no matter the circumstance, it is always lethal for someone."

"So what your sayin' is," Naruto grinned, "Never go nowhere without this on, right?" Naruto waved his hand with the Kyü Ruby stuck to his finger.

"Precisely," Kakashi smiled, "That is the first part of this lesson… don't forget it."

"Right on, Guv'n-"

"Moving on!" Kakashi waved a hand, and the water, yeast, and measuring cup vanished.

"Wait a minute!" Naruto yelled, "Why ain't you using a modulator now?"  
"Why am I not?" Holmes asked patiently.  
"Yeah, why ain'tcha?"  
"Why. Am. I. Not?" Kakashi repeated more sternly.  
"What you said."

With a sigh, Holmes pressed onward, "I am using several…" With a flourish, he removed his white glove to reveal a ring on each of the fingers on his right hand. "Along with my cane I am wearing ten different rings… each of them a vis modulator constructed of different element designs, which I will explain in today's lesson, if you ever allow me to move on!" Holmes threw his hands up in exhasperation and started pacing the room.

"I swear the two of you are insufferable!" Kakashi moaned, "If you aren't bickering, then you're asking a thousand question… or speaking with that atrocious accent!"

"Excuse me," Sasuke straigtened, "My diction is perfect."

"The questions comment was directed at you, Mister Moore!" Holmes snapped.

"Ha ha!" Naruto pointed, "Not so perfect now!"  
"At least my accent is acceptable," Sasuke snapped.  
"Yeah, but your attitude is attoxic!"  
"That's atrocious you imbicile," Sasuke smirked.  
Naruto growled, "At last I'm willing to learn, y'pompous bastard!"  
"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You think you know everything," Naruto went into his best Sasuke impersonation, "**_My diction is so perfect that God smiles when I speak!_**"

"Enough!" Kakashi roared, bringing his hand up to smack his forehead, "If I have to listen to this all day… I swear I'll ship both of you to Burma!"

"With your cane?" Naruto asked giddily, "Will we be home n'time for dinner?"

"By ship," Kakashi said bitterly, "It'll take you years to get back for dinner."

Naruto gulped; Sasuke rolled his eyes but was silent.

"Thank you…" Kakashi pulled his glove back on and motioned to the table laden with assorted items, "You'll notice that there are six different piles here. These are the six classifications of conductive elements, known as the _**Prolixus Rudimenta**_. Most beginning magical guides have a complete table, much like the mundane table of elements that scientists these days keep working on, but these are the ones that matter and are easily available to any mage in dire need… or with a mind for tinkering."

Holmes pointed to the first pile, "They go in order from most powerful to most flexible, in this order." Kakashi tapped each pile as he labeled them, "Fine gem, precious metals, supernatural organics, semiprecious stones, alloy metals, and rare wood." As he finished he noticed that both of them looked a little lost, "Have you followed me thus far?"

"How the heck is wood flexible, Guv'nah?" the blonde barked, looking at Kakashi like he'd lost his mind.

"Flexible in its application, Watson," Holmes sighed.

"If all of these are vis conductors…" Sasuke muttered, "Then in theory a mage could use a tea kettle to perform magic."

"If the tea kettle were made out of copper or bronze," Kakashi shrugged, "In a dire circumstance, yes. Admittedly it would not allow for anything impressive as far as magical feats go… but it is much safer than performing magic without a tea kettle."

"Tea kettles?" Naruto looked at the two of them with doubt, "You're pulling me leg!"

"Of course not," Kakashi ignored him, and continued talking to Sasuke. "Another point of this lesson is getting the two of you capable of recognizing _vis elements _in the everyday world. The mundane horde these things like treasure, which is very good for a mage on a mission."

"So buying a ring from a pawn shop is a good idea in a pinch?" Sasuke asked.

"Or picking one off an unsuspecting lady's finger?" Naruto grinned devilishly.

"Yes… and no," Kakashi glared at Naruto, "Unless your life is at stake, there is no cause for stealing from a mundane. I'll teach you how to call the necessary elements. In most circumstances that will be all you need."

"Blimey," Naruto sighed, "This is all hurting m'head."

"We haven't even started…" Kakashi smiled.

[…]

_**Friday, May 20th, High Noon  
**__**Fleet Street, London  
**__**Year of Enlightenment 1875**_

The street was bustling with life today.

It was the open air market. Thousands of pedestrians would be making their way down Fleet Street for this occasion, all of them waiting to peruse the stalls, shops, and carts that only came out for this one week out of the year. Foods, trinkets, odds and ends… it could all be found on Fleet Street today.

This one event still persisted, in spite of the neighborhood's decline… and it was just as Zabuza remembered it. He'd been taken from his family during this very event, on this very corner, twenty years ago… and here he stood, alive but with nothing to show for his life.

He'd lost everything.

The things he'd gained during his imprisonment had yet to yield any type of reward… ever since he'd been back, Zabuza had found himself haunted by dreams and memories. Every morning the sun awoke in him a desire for blood, and every night he lay down to a restless sleep… not one step closer to his revenge,

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he growled.

"Of course I'm sure, luv!" Haku smiled pleasantly, watching the customers and passersby with an eye out for potential coin, "If your ever going to get a customer base, today's the day to do it."

"I fail to see how this is going to help me…"

"You need to blend in, right?" Haku crossed his arms, looking at him sternly, "There's always time for revenge, but if you don't find a cover story they're going t'find you and ship you back to bloody Australia."

Zabuza smiled. Seeing Haku in a dress and knowing it was him behind that make-up, it made any attempt he made, of coming across as serious, a complete failure. "So you think if I give a demonstration…"

"People will see just 'ow good've a barber you really are," Haku smiled, taking a man's coin and giving him a rotten pie, "And you'll have all the customers you could ask for… a perfect cover."

Something about all those people traipsing through his door made Zabuza fear that it would be anything _**but **_a good cover… still, Haku had been taking care of him for a while now and he hadn't brought much by the way of coin. This was the least he could do.

"Alright," Zabuza consented, "How do you want to do this?"

Haku looked up and down the street before stepping out from behind their stall and grabbing a young boy by his upper arm.

"Oy, marm! What's the big idea?" the boy struggled.

"Keep quiet, or I'll call the bobbies and tell them that you just stole that gentleman's coin purse," Haku said with a creepily pleasant smile fixed on his features.

"Ok…" the boy huffed but stopped struggling.

"I need you to do me a favor," Haku brushed the boy's face of, wiping away some of the dirt and soot, "My friend over there is about to give a little demonstration. Could y'be a good boy and gather the crowd?"

"Why should I?"

With a smile, Haku reached up with his other hand to stroke his pendant, "Because I asked you… so very nicely?"

"Right," the boy nodded, "I'kin do that!"

"What's your name boy?" Haku asked with a chuckle.

"Tobias Kiban Ragg, but my friends call me Kiba!" The boy announced with a toothy grin.

"Well, Kiba," Haku smiled, ruffling the unruly mop of brown hair on the boy's head, "Run gather me an audience and there'll be a warm pie in it for you."

"Right away, marm!"

[…]

_**Friday, May 20th, Midday  
**__**Baker Street, London  
**__**Year of Enlightenment 1875**_

"I can't take it no more!" Naruto wailed, "You took me breakfast, made me miss luncheon… and you just keep cramming this poppycock into m'head without give a poor bloke a bit of afternoon tea? You're a monster, I tell ya!"

"We're almost finished," Holmes rolled his eyes, "I swear you have such a knack for hyperbole. You act as though I'm starving you."

"Fiend! You are most certainly… I think yer trying to do away with me!" Naruto feigned swooning, "You've gone off your rocker, sir!"

"Please shut him up," Sasuke growled.

"No one was talking to you, y'bastard!" Naruto barked.

While the two of them bickered, Kakashi debated upon whether or not a silencing spell would solve the problem, and he ultimately concluded that, with these two, they would probably find a way to argue with one another even with their lips magically sewn together… so he relented. With a wave of his hand a place of sandwiches appeared before Naruto, "There… this should be suitable for teatime. If you can manage to string together some proper sentences between now and the end of the lesson, I might be inclined to give you dinner."

"A right decent chap you are, Guv'nah!" Naruto said with a mouth full of turkey and bread, "Right decent!"

"That's the best sentence you've said all day," Sasuke chuckled.

"Thutup!" Naruto sputtered, showering Sasuke with crumbs as his retort.

Just as they were about to break into another argument, Holmes cleared his throat. "I hope," Kakashi continued, "Now that you have some libation… I might continue."

Naruto nodded.

"And that you'll pay attention," Holmes added with a raised eyebrow.

"Details, details…" Naruto waved dimissively.

"You're dinner will rely on how well you answer my questions after the lesson, Naruto…"

"Fine!" the blonde huffed, "I'll pay attention, jus' get on with it!"

"Now, we've been over the forms, objects, places, and handling of the many different objects that can be used as vis modulators," Kakashi went right back into his lesson, "The last thing you need to know is the properties that are inherent in each of the _**Prolixus Rudimenta. **_The first class, Fine Gems…"

Kakashi picked up a rather large diamond from the table, "Diamonds are of course the most common and the most powerful of the gems, followed by rubies, emeralds, sapphires and so on…" Kakashi set the gem down and pointed to Naruto's ring, "As you can see, some of the most powerful vis modulators in existence are made with fine gems."

"Heh," Naruto smirked at Sasuke, "Hear that… mine's one of the most powerful."

"Now don't get to hasty to becoming a braggart, Mister Watson," Kakashi warned, "Just because it is powerful, the Kyü Ruby has its limitations, as do all modulators. The benefit of using fine gems in a modulator is that they store a mage's latent vis energy."

Sasuke's eyes widened, "Like a reservoir?"

"Very similar," Kakashi nodded, "The gems develop an attunement to the frequency of their owner's body. Over time, they will begin to store energy while you sleep, perform your day to day activities… anything you do that doesn't require or expend the vis within your body, the gem will story it."

"All of it?" Naruto asked incredulously.

"Of course there is a limit," Holmes chuckled, "The type of gem, its size, and how it is faceted will determine the amount of energy it can hold… but with time I'll teach you how to read the ruby's storage capacity… and it works similarly for all gems."

"That's so cool!" Naruto said, marveling at the ring on his finger.

"The Kyü Ruby is impressive for other reasons as well, Mister Watson."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I mean that a smart modulator is a combination of several elements from _**Prolixus Rudimenta**_."  
Naruto cocked his head in confusion.  
"He means that the ring is powerful because of more than just the big shiny thing in the center," Sasuke snapped.

"Oh…" Naruto nodded, but he still looked a bit confused.

"The gold in the band," Kakashi pointed to the ring, "It comes from our second classification: precious metals. Gold, silver, platinum… right, you boys don't know about that yet… um, well, gold and silver are the big notable elements in this category. You can find them more readily than others in this category."

"You see gold every where," Naruto frowned looking a bit skeptical, "What with coins, ring, candlesticks, hubcaps…"

"Did you steal anything that sparkled?" Sasuke asked with disbelief.

"If it wasn't too hard to carry," Naruto grinned.

"Yes, moving on from Naruto's life of crime," Holmes snapped his fingers for their attention, "The reason precious metals are so important to the construction of a modulator… is because of their conductivity. They channel _vis _more effectively, amplifying your spell work while cutting down the amount of energy you are spending. So, when combined with Fine Gems, a mage can effectively cast magik using the energy stored within his modulator and never once have to tap into his own reserved."

"Or he could pour his own reserves into the modulator for more power?" Sasuke asked.

"Precisely."

"I'm confused…" Naruto frowned, "So is the ruby or t'gold more important?"  
"Idiot," Sasuke muttered.  
"I'm not an idiot!" Naruto growled, "Unlike you, I haven't had years to learn all this stuff!"

Both Kakashi and Sasuke looked at him in shock.

"What?" Naruto was suddenly apprehensive, "Whaddid I say?"

"And… you blew it," Holmes sighed, "One perfect sentence and then it's back to the gutter."

"Right," Naruto flushed in embarrassment, "M'workin on it."

"Every little step is a good step," Kakashi smiled, "Now, our third category is in the middle of the field. It's not necessarily the most powerful, but it has more versatility than gems and metals."

"Supernatural Organics?" Naruto asked tentatively.

"You were listening," Holmes winked, "Yes, Supernatural Organics… they have magik properties of their own, depending on where they originate from. This is the largest category, because there are so many supernatural creatures and figments of myth. A mage can bring back any number of elements from this category on a trip to reasoning… that we have not come anywhere near to fully defining it."

"Now… it would take to long to explain every property available to a supernatural element, but take my cane for example," Kakashi held it up, "The handle is pure silver, but the base is refined from unicorn horn… which is naturally attuned to amplify light based magic. My entire repertoire of spells, which I have created, are fixated in the scientific study of light and its mechanics… so this modulator is custom made for just that purpose."

"And the rings?" Sasuke asked.

"Wait, unicorn?" Naruto asked.

Kakashi didn't acknowledge him, continuing to answer Sasuke's question. "They are there should I ever need to call on any other type of magik, or should I run up against an opponent whose magik cannot be countered with my preferred skills," Holmes explained.

"What about the unicorn?" Naruto tried again.

"So a vis modulator can counter a specific magik type… and it can also boost it?" Sasuke asked, ignoring Naruto, but it was painfully obvious that the blonde was going to make himself heard.

"Precisely," Kakashi said with delight.

"What about the flippin', flyin', blinkin', blimey unicorns!" Naruto shouted.

"No need to shout," Kakashi frowned, "What did you want to know?"

"How did you find a unicorn?" Naruto crossed his arms in irritation.  
"On a trip to reasoning."  
"What's that again?"  
"It's a mage's journey to the realms out side of our existence," Kakashi explained.  
"Head is hurting again," Naruto mumbled.  
"You'll understand it in time," Kakashi encouraged.

Naruto suddenly got very excited at one of his realization," Wait! Are dragon's real too?"

"Yes," Holmes chuckled.  
"And elves?"  
"Yes."  
Naruto thought for a moment, "And faries, and giants, and Santa Claus?"

"Yes, yes, and no… he dies during an assignment several decades ago," Kakashi frowned, "I really liked Nicholas. I told him not to take that mission, but he insisted he could…"

"I fail to see how discussing Santa Claus is relevant," Sasuke snipped.

"I'll try to stay on topic," Kakashi grinned sheepishly, but he didn't actually apologize. "Now, the next category is one of the most interesting… Semiprecious Stones such as onyx, obsidian, pearl, amber, and many of your crystal types all have a very special property. While they can be used as a poor substiture for Precious Gems, they actually have a more versatile effect to them."

Kakashi grinned, pointing to Sasuke's bracelet, "You can store spells within them."

"What?" Sasuke looked at his bracelet with newfound interest, as if he'd never seen it before.

"So much to learn," Holmes chuckled, "Depending on the type of the stone and its size, a mage can store all any type and caliber of spell inside a semiprecious stone. That bracelet of yours is onyx if I'm correct?"

"Yes," Sasuke nodded, "The medallion is made of obsidian."

"How many stones in total?" Kakashi asked.

"Fifty-two," Sasuke said, without having to count. It was apparent that he'd done so many times before.

"Well, that's fifty two spells you can cast before even needing to spend your own energy. Another benefit of storing spells is that you don't have to incant them again; you only have to release the energy held within the stone. I'll show you how in one of our one-on-one sessions… but I recommend filling them as soon as you have a wide enough range of spells."

Sasuke nodded.

"I'm also assuming that they are strung together with copper?"

"Silver," Sasuke corrected.

"Hmmm, quite the modulator you have there, Mister Moore," Holmes eyed the bracely with intense curiosity, "Any idea who made it?"

"It was my mothers," the raven muttered.

"She was a good woman," Kakashi nodded, frowning slightly as several unwanted thoughts came to the front of his mind, "And a good mage."

"You knew her?"

"Every Magarium knew her," Kakashi smirked, "She was one of us… one of the best, just like Naruto's father."

Sasuke and Naruto eyed one another edgily, not quite sure how they liked having something so similar in common. No parents, with one parent being a well-known, powerful mage? It was a little unsettling.

"Moving on…" Kakashi cleared his throat, and his memories, before continuing. "Next we have Alloy Metals, which act along the same lines as Precious Metals, only less effectively; however, they are in more abundance and they can be molded with almost any modulator. Copper, steel, aluminum… again, you'll learn about these things in time. Just know that most opponents you come up against will probably have Alloy Metals incorporated into their modulators."

"I thought you said that mages preferred gems and gold," Naruto grumbled.

"Yes, and most of the higher level members of L.O.R.E., such as the Magarium and Magisters, have access to these materials, but apprentices and Adepts aren't as lucky as yourself… they don't go around pick-pocketing immensely powerful, magical items."

"I'm just lucky like that," Naruto grinned.

"I'm sure," Sasuke smirked, "Thing just fall into your hand don't they?"

"Yep."

"Finally," Kakashi intervened, "We have Rare Wood… heartwood, ancient elm, black oak… trees have have existed for centuries have built up a reservoir of _vis _energy, which lives on in their wood. This continuous stream of energy can combine with a mage's own, producing interesting results… which is probably why most historical images depict mages as men wearing robes and carrying wooden staves. We actually train most of our apprentices with Rare Wood because of the ease it lends to casting spells… though I've seen some ingenious Magarium build their houses out of it."

"They built their houses out of this modulating stuff?" Naruto snorted, "Why would anyone do that?"

"If you were attacked in your own home, Mister Watson, wouldn't you like to be able to use anything as a weapon?" Kakashi asked bluntly.

"Ah… yeah." Naruto grinned, rubbing the back of his head, "Forget I asked."

"Most mages, once they leave their apprenticeship, make their own modulators…" Kakashi continued, "In fact they spend their entire lives perfecting their modulator. I've spent decades working on my cane, and, provided I live that long, I'll probably spend centuries perfecting it."

"Will we get to make one?" Naruto asked with excitement.

"I can teach you the fundamentals," Kakashi placated, "But I doubt you'll make anything to compare to the one you are wearing now. The Kyü Ruby was fashioned by some of the oldest members of L.O.R.E. who reside in the oriental Echelon of the order."

"Oh…" Naruto glared at his ring with dejection.

"But you are more than welcome to try," Kakashi chuckled, "Lord knows your father did. I think it gave him something to do when he was bored."

"Did he ever…?" Naruto trailed off.

"Not even close," Kakashi smiled sympathetically, "Some objects in this word are inherently more powerful than anything we can craft… and that ruby is one of them. It's natural properties are unlike anything the artisans of L.O.R.E. have ever studied. You're lucky to have it."

Naruto looked at the ring that refused to come off his finger. It was apparently stuck there and he was apparently never going to get anything better… for some reason he didn't feel lucky. Glancing over at Sasuke, the Naruto saw the raven fiddling with his bracelet. "How come he gets all the cool stuff," Naruto muttered to no one but his envious self.

[…]

_**Friday, May 20th, Afternoon**_  
_**Fleet Street, London**_  
_**Year of Enlightenment 1875**_

"Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention… pah-leez!" Kiba shouted, "Gather 'round to witness the greatest testament of a barber's skill! A shave so close, so fast… your own eyes won't believe it though you've seen it! That's right! Gather 'round gents!"

Zabuza watched with a grim fascination as the boy managed to work up a sizable crowd. In fact, there were enough pedestrians watching that they were spilling off the sidewalks and into the street. "There must not be many demonstrations this year," he muttered.

"Or you might be the only barber around," Haku chuckled, "Lookit all them beards… that's a pretty crowd of coins if I ever saw one. Now go out there and pick one for your demonstration, and do me proud Mister T."

"You're certain of this?" he asked, still having those nagging doubts.

"I'm always certain, luv," Haku said, pushing Zabuza through the crowd, "Now get on with it."

Zabuza stumbled out of the crowd from one particularly rough push, and spun around to face the crowd. Men and women and children from every walk of life were gathered about, hundreds of eyes watching him expectantly. For a moment Zabuza felt a chilling sense of fear and anxiety. What if he under whelmed the crowd? It wouldn't hurt his cover, but it certainly wouldn't bring in any profit either.

No, he'd just have to do what he'd always done… with a little magik, he could do it better.

Zabuza scanned the crowd, and found a man with a beard scragglier than most of the other men in the audience. Whipping out his razor, Zabuza pointed towards the man, "You sir! How about a shave?"

The crowd goaded the man into stepping forward, though it was obvious that he didn't have any desire to sit down for a spectacle… much less lose his beard in the process.

"It's free, sir," Zabuza coaxed him, "And it'll be the closest shave you ever get."

"Oh, alright then," the man muttered, walking over to the set up chair, "How long is it going to take?"

Just as he was about to answer, Zabuza laid eyes on a face he would never forget no matter how long he lived. A man in a blue velvet suit, with slicked, jet black hair was watching the display with great interest, taping a polished mahogany cane on a cobblestone with apparently impatience… Beadle Kisame Bamford, chief of police for this district… the man who had him arrested.

Zabuza let out a wicked smirk before shouting out, "Shall we ask Beadle Bamford to be the judge? I see he carried a rather fine watch."

Kisame looked shocked for only a moment, before he smiled widely like a hungry shark, "Always a pleasure to help my friends and neighbors…" He pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open, "When shall we begin?"

With a flourish, Zabuza brought his razor down upon the leather strap at his waist and began sharpening it. "When ever your honorable self sees fit…" the barber growled, "Say the word and I'll be done in seconds."

Kisame raised a finely kept eyebrow, brushing off the shoulder of his suit, "Very well then… begin!"

Zabuza whipped up the lather brush, covering the man's beard before quickly bringing around his razor. One, two, three, four, five… and on the sixth pass of the razor's blade he was finished. Stepping back to show the crowd a completely different man than had been sitting there before. He was completely clean-shaven, not a whisker on his face.

There were several seconds of stunned silence, in which Zabuza turned to the Beadle, "The time?"

Kisame looked down at his watch with surprise, "Ten seconds…"

"As you can see, Ladies and Gentlemen," Zabuza gestured, "I can give you a perfect shave in mere moments… just imagine what I could do with a full appointment!"

The crowd was impressed, and they showed it with their applause and cheers. The next few minutes, Zabuza found himself swarmed by congratulation, admirations, and a slew of people just wanting to shake his hand. By the time the crowd thinned, he was exhausted.

"Ahem…"

Zabuza turned around to stare face to face with Kisame Bamford, "Mister Todd, was it?"

He nodded.

Kisame reached out his hand and shook Zabuza's, "A pleasure to witness such… finesse with a razor. One does not often find such an artist."

"You are much to kind."

"Nonsense," Kisame grinned, "One should be proud of his work, I know I am. Now, tell me, Mister Todd, do you have premises on Fleet Street."

"Aye," he nodded, "Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor above Mrs. Lovett's pie shop just over there." Zabuza pointed to the opposite corner of the street.

"Very good," Kisame put on a matching blue bowler hat and tipped it in farewell, "I shall be calling upon your services before the week is out."

* * *

_**~A/N~**_

_**And that is about it. All the latin words are roughly translated in the story (the words in bold italics). Kakashi and Sasuke helped me with that. Also, I plan on using the the Santa Claus issue more... so don't think I just killed him for fun. It'll come up again in one of their other missions.**_

_**Also, I know this was information laden, but the Vis Elements are very important for the story... so it had to get finished. Also, you should thank my friend Kyle (he'll be making a fanficiton account soon so that I can force him to review) because he read my first chapters and then demanded that I give him more. Bastard made me write while I was on vaction because it's apparently "good for me to keep in practice." Like I said... Bastard. **_

_**Anyways, this is the last you get from me until next year. I'll be working on N:K again, starting Jan. 2nd. So review, hopefully you'll win a picture. Love you all!**_


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